Stay With Me

Stay With Me After a messy divorce and the death of her mother, author Charlotte Allen is looking for a quiet place to hang her laptop. She finds it on a hundred acres of pristine, Northern Canadian wilderness. Things start to look up when a hunky contractor signs on to build her dream home.

David Hadfield is a big fan of Charlotte’s work, so it’s no trouble at all when the lovely Ms. Allen asks him to put his big hammer to use. David’s also a 250-year-old vampire who’s been looking for a woman to call his own. Forever. He loves the vampire stories she writes. It makes sense she’d find it easy to love a real bloodsucker…doesn’t it? Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves Length: 46,416 words

STAY WITH ME

Gwen Campbell

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

STAY WITH ME Copyright © 2011 by Gwen Campbell

E-book ISBN: 1-61034-160-0

First E-book Publication: March 2011

Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

Dear Readers,

If you have purchased this copy of Stay With Me by Gwen Campbell from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

Regarding E-book Piracy

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

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This is Gwen Campbell’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Campbell’s right to earn a living from her work.

Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION

For Don. Always.

STAY WITH ME

GWEN CAMPBELL

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chapter One

Standing just inside the tree line, he watched the neglected bungalow. Inside, the kitchen lights were on. Around him, the air was damp. Mist slid around the base of the trees, his boots, and spilled out onto the rough lawn. He was dressed in black—black jeans and T-shirt. He should have been stiff with cold, but he was relaxed. His arms were casually crossed over his chest, and his feet were comfortably spread. You wouldn’t notice him standing there in the pre-dawn darkness and that was his intent. The only thing you would notice was the intense light in his sharp blue eyes. The porch light flicked on, and the bungalow door opened with a creak. A man lurched out of it. Bleary-eyed and unsteady on his feet, he scratched himself with fumbled determination. “That chicken you made for dinner was crap,” he barked at someone inside. “I want steak tonight. You hear me?” “Y-yes.” The reply from inside was wary. The speaker was a woman. A feminine hand reached out and eased the screen shut behind him when the man lumbered off the porch, heading for the pickup truck parked near the house. Beside the driver’s door he reached into his pocket but dropped the keys on the gravel drive. His swearing was passionate and uncreative. Bending down, he reached for the keys, but they weren’t there. Instead, they were lying in the palm of the other man’s hand. “Hey! Who the fuck’re you?” David wrinkled his nose at the smell of stale beer and bad breath. “You’re still drunk from last night, Tim,” he said and closed his fingers around the keys. “Two months ago you put a man in the hospital while you were driving. You were drunk then, too.” David grabbed the man’s lunch pail with a speed that made Tim blink, and opened it. A crease formed between David’s eyes. Nestled amongst the neatly packed, balanced lunch and snack items were two cans of beer. “You plan on drinking these later to keep the hangover from kicking in?” He popped the ring tabs, dropped the cans, and let the contents spill into the ground. “That guy you hit? His one leg’s now shorter than the other, and he’ll have a permanent limp. This is going to stop.” “Fuck you.” David snorted. “Even if I was into guys, I wouldn’t do you.” He grabbed Tim beneath the arms and swung him up and around like he was no heavier than a toddler. The hood of the trunk gave a metallic groan as its owner’s back bent over it before his body was spun one-eighty. Blinking up at the stars, Tim kicked out uselessly. The heels of his work boots added two fresh dings to the pickup. He gagged like he was going to throw up, probably from the alcohol and adrenaline. His head hung back over the edge of the hood. Punching wildly, he hit air, not David’s cool, immoveable

hands pinning him down. David scrutinized his face, got real close. Tim kicked out again, shoved at his shoulders, and screamed when David touched his teeth to his throat and scraped. Tim screamed again and gurgled as he was dragged along the hood of his pickup. His neck was being scratched up worse than the worst dry-shave of his pathetic life. Blood dripped onto his collar and what didn’t drip was being sucked into the other man’s mouth. Suck. Swallow. Release. Scrape. The process repeated over and over, and a wet spot spread over the crotch of Tim’s jeans. He screamed again when he was thrown off the hood like a used chamois. Grabbing his throat, blinking stupidly at the blood smearing his fingers, he lumbered to his feet and backed away. “Now,” David said quietly. He ran his hand over the corner of his mouth, wiped away a smear of blood, and licked it clean. Although he had deliberately not bitten Tim, only scored his skin, his canines were still unnaturally long and sharp. His eyes glowed like a predator’s. “You’re not going to drive to work today. Your wife is going to call you in sick.” David ran his tongue over his lower lip and smiled coldly. “I’m going to pour all your booze down the sink.” “No, you fuck—” David was on him in an instant. He grabbed the lapels of Tim’s light jacket and hoisted him into the air until his feet hung about four inches above it. “Oh yes I am,” David continued. His voice was as calm and even as it had been a minute before. “This afternoon when you’re sober, you’re going to pack a suitcase and get out of town. Permanently. Take your disgusting breath with you and move your drunken ass somewhere else.” “What if I don’t wanna?” David had to hand it to him. Tim might be a waste of humanity, but he sure knew how to score high on the stupid-meter. “Then you’ll die.” David let Tim’s body fall. Moving faster than any human could, David dropped with him, down on one knee, and planted Tim’s body across it, belly up. Tim hung in an arch across David’s lap, hands and feet flopping on the gravel. Any more of an arch and Tim’s back would snap. The movement made Tim’s work shirt ride up. With a feral growl that startled a sleeping flock of birds into flight, David bit down on Tim’s exposed gut. He bit deep, sucked the warm blood down his dry throat, and sucked again. Instead of a few drops, this time he drank down two mouthfuls before grabbing Tim’s urine-soaked crotch. David squeezed the drunk’s balls. Hard. Roaring, David surged to his feet, sending Tim sprawling and rolling across the driveway. He spit out the remnants of Tim’s blood like it tasted foul. “I’m what folks nowadays call a vigilante. The term works for me. I clean up shit like you before other people have to step in it. Care to reconsider?” Tim’s head bobbed up and down frantically. “Yeah. Sure. Moving sounds good.”

David grabbed Tim by the arm and hauled him back toward the run-down bungalow. Tim’s wife, with her housecoat wrapped around her, held the door open for him, gave him a grateful nod, and stepped to one side.

****

Settling into a wooden deck chair, David lifted his face to the late-afternoon May sunshine, stretched out his long legs, and folded his fingers over his abdomen in a relaxed posture that heralded the end of the workday. “You know that author you’re always going on about?” He looked at the woman sitting beside him. Maggie was in her early sixties with short, styled hair. She was still wearing the pants from a sensible suit and a silk blouse, but she’d swapped her high heels for moccasins. The newspaper in her hands snapped open. “She’s doing a reading at a bookstore in Sudbury next week.” “Really? No way.” David sat up straight and grabbed the paper when his friend held it out to him. “She lives in Toronto,” he added as he scanned the ad. “What would she be doing up in Sudbury?” “Would you like to go?” Maggie asked with a grin. “It’s a five-hour drive, but I wouldn’t mind.” “Does a bear sh—” “Dinner’s ready. Get it while it’s hot.” Maggie’s husband, Bruce, stepped out onto the deck wearing an apron with an invitation to Kiss The Cook printed on it. Offering his wife his hand, he pulled her to her feet and gave her a quick kiss. “Hmm,” David purred as he sniffed the air and followed them inside. “Smells great. Maybe I should get me a retired spouse who can cook.” Maggie snorted. “You’d need a spouse first.” She gave his tight belly a light slap and sat down on the chair her husband held out for her. “So, about Charlotte Allen coming to Sudbury,” David continued. “Do we know anybody up there? Somebody who could give us the scoop on why she’s up north.” Maggie’s brows drew together for a moment. “Alice still lives up there during the winter. I don’t think she’s moved out to the cottage for the season yet.”

“Thanks.” David accepted a basket of rolls from Bruce, took one, and passed the rest along. “I’ll send her an e-mail when I get home,” he said and cut into the rare steak on his plate.

Chapter Two

David kept to the shadows. Standing between bookshelves, he looked out at the neat rows of folding chairs set up in the big bookstore and saw Maggie take a chair near the front and strike up a conversation with the stranger sitting beside her. David’s expression warmed when he noticed the soft creases on the back of his friend’s neck. When they’d met, Maggie had been a lanky eight-year-old running around her parents’ house. There hadn’t been creases, rolls, or anything remarkable about her. Back then her hair had been pale yellow. It had darkened with age. Now that it was gray, she kept it colored a dark blonde. He liked that color on her, liked the creases that had grown around her eyes from too much smiling. He exhaled and looked away from the reminders of his friend’s mortality. His looks hadn’t changed. There were no wrinkles on his face, and he was still tall and strong. His hair was the same sandy blond it had always been. Only the cut of it had been updated over the decades. A woman wearing a red suit stepped up to the podium, and he grinned. That little head shot on her dust covers didn’t do her justice. Charlotte Allen looked younger than thirty-five. Her chin-length, chestnut brown hair shone under the industrial lighting. She was maybe five-six and had nice, full hips, breasts like ripe little apples, and her mouth was generous and soft. He could practically taste her red lipstick. Smiling at the crowd, she introduced herself, which David approved of. So many of these readings were preceded by long-winded speeches by an organizer or some notable person, and the

speech invariably digressed into a veiled dissertation on why it was more important to listen to the person doing the introduction rather than the guest speaker. Charlotte opened the book in her hands and started to read. Her voice was feminine but deep, and it carried well. He was carried along with it into a shadowy cave, where a young, nubile woman played a game of psychological chess with a deranged vampire more intent on playing with his food than eating it. Although David knew the plot and passage already, something in her voice made it more exciting than it had been last night when he’d sat up and devoured her latest release. Hell, he devoured all her books as soon as he got his hands on one. There was so much life, so much vitality and humor in the women she crafted, it always made David wonder what the woman herself was like. He’d trace the outline of her face on her dust-cover pictures, look at those intelligent, confident brown eyes, and imagine the skin surrounding them creased when she laughed, looking at him at the end of the day and not being frightened by what she saw. She’d probably think it was creepy, but he’d memorized her official bio and Googled her religiously. It wasn’t just the women she crafted. It was the vampires, too. She gave them souls, layers, made them likeable, sympathetic. If her women accepted them, came to love them, wouldn’t she, too? David felt drawn to her, more than he’d thought he would. When she finished reading, Charlotte took questions, then moved to a table set up with copies of her book for sale. Still standing in the shadows, he watched Maggie maneuver herself so she was at the back of the line. “If you could make it out to Maggie,” she said about two hours later and smiled down at Charlotte. When the signed book was handed back to her, Maggie held out one of her business cards. “I’m a real estate broker. A little bird told me you were thinking of buying up here.” Charlotte smiled hesitantly. “How about I buy you a coffee?” Maggie pressed in that warm, professional, endearing way of hers. “You can tell me about your wish list, and I’ll search the listings for you. I also hear about desirable properties before they hit the market.” “Well, I’m already signed with a local agent.” “No problem. I respect that. But I’m a fan, you see. A friend turned me on to your books about ten years ago. I figure this is a way to enhance my karma—do you a good turn, if I can, as a way of saying thanks for the enjoyment I’ve got out of your books.” Maggie grinned. “It’s also a way of doing something nice for my friend if we can find you a great property in the Barry’s Bay area.”

“Are you sure about this friend of yours? I’ve got some weird fans,” Charlotte said with a wry grin. “Oh, he’s a weird one all right, but good weird. And he’s cute. About your age, too.” She flashed Charlotte her best grandmotherly smile. “Anyway, what do you say to grabbing that coffee? We’ll talk about what you’re looking for and see if it progresses from there.” David watched Charlotte finger the card in her hand. He could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. Maggie’s office was at least five hours southeast of there, but it was still a lot closer to Toronto. She represented a reputable, national real estate company. The card said she wasn’t just an agent but a broker. That part was impressive. “Yes. I’d love to,” Charlotte agreed, picked up her purse, said her thanks to the bookstore staff, and followed a charming, animated Maggie outside.

****

“So what’s she looking for?” There was enough room in Maggie’s big Cadillac for David to stretch his legs out in the well in front of the passenger seat. During the long drive back to Barry’s Bay, they’d exhausted the topic of Charlotte Allen’s books and changes to the tax laws governing small businesses. “Charlotte?” Maggie asked and flicked on the turn signal. She left the highway and headed down the side road leading to her home. “Lakefront property, something with at least ten acres. More would be better,” she recited with crisp professionalism. “Rural, isolated, fully treed. She’s not opposed to building if there’s no cottage or if it’s crap. She doesn’t want somebody else’s overblown, lakefront palace.” “Hmm.” David looked out the window at the trees crowding the darkness at the edge of the road. “Why don’t you offer her my property?” Maggie gaped at him. David continued. “I’ll list it with you, and you can make some commission when you sell it to her.” “No, David,” Maggie protested hotly. “You’ve lived there…well, forever.” “It won’t be permanent. You know what I’m looking for. What I’ve been looking for—for years now.” He shrugged. “Maybe she’s it. I admit a lot of the attraction is because I’m hooked on her work,

but I want to believe in magic. Love. I felt a real spark when I saw her. I don’t know whether that’s starstruck or real,” he admitted. “Anyway, if it works, perfect. I’ll have everything I’ve always wanted, and I’ll get the place back when I marry her.” “And if it doesn’t work?” David looked back at the trees. “If it doesn’t work out, I’ll give her a little mental…push. Get her to sell the place back to me.” “Now, David—” “Yeah, I know it sounds hinky,” he interrupted. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, then let his hand fall onto his lap. “But I promise I’ll let you handle the deal. I’ll even see to it she makes a little profit on the sale.” Grinning, he looked at Maggie’s profile. “Will that satisfy your postmodern morality?” Maggie’s mouth thinned. “All right,” she groused and turned in at her driveway. The headlights reflected off the garage and David’s beefy pickup before they pulled up beside it. He rubbed his eyes again, got out of the car, and opened Maggie’s door for her. She frowned when his shoulders weren’t as straight as they usually were. “Do you need to eat?” “Maybe. No,” he amended with a thin smile. “I’ll be all right. I’ll just have some fruit when I get home.” “That’s not what I meant, and you know it, David.” “Yes,” he answered grudgingly. “But you’ve fed me already this month. Tomorrow, I’ll—” “Oh for heaven’s sake.” She pulled off one sleeve of her spring jacket and held out her bare forearm. “Just take what you need and stop your fussing.” He took her hand, held it gently, and raised it to his mouth. Sharp canines slid over his lower lip, and he sunk them into her wrist. Maggie gasped. Her nipples plumped and grew hard; her head dropped back. The lines around her eyes softened, and her lips parted in a sensual smile. Stepping closer, David caressed her breast, squeezed it just so with the familiarity of long acquaintance, then drove his thigh between hers, levering them open. Maggie gasped again, ground her sex against his hard leg, and trembled when his hand replaced his leg. Drinking slowly, measuring the heat as it left her body, David stroked his old friend’s pussy, ran his thumbnail over her pant-covered clit without having to hunt around to landmark it. He squeezed her mound hard when she made that soft, feminine sound he adored. She started to come. Holding her as she convulsed against his hand, he finally retracted his teeth, licked the puncture marks on her wrist until his saliva closed them. He steadied her when he stepped away.

The porch light revealed her sleepy, heavy-lidded expression, the sexy way she licked her lips, and the grin shaping them. “Even after all these years, your husband still doesn’t mind?” David asked quietly and brushed a kiss against her forehead. “Mind? Gawd no.” She trailed her fingers across her hips and smiled. “Bruce says feeding you just gets me warmed up. Good night, David.” Maggie waved as she strolled unsteadily toward her front door. “I hope Bruce took a nap today. The way I feel now, he’s going to need the energy.” Chuckling, David climbed into his pickup and headed home.

****

On June fifteenth, Charlotte watched the rental guys hook up the water and septic to her mobile home. A workman from the county had been by earlier, approved her hydro setup, and made the final connection. Her double-wide was leveled, set on concrete blocks, and looked cute sitting off to one side of a natural clearing on her new lot. Well, acreage actually. She was the proud owner of a whole one hundred acres of undeveloped, genuine Canadian wilderness. The local real-estate lawyer had told her the area had been logged out in the mid-nineteenth century. After that it’d been parceled up and offered for sale by the province as farms. Problem was, the area was too rocky. Not much of it was good for farming. By some weird fluke of family inheritance, this parcel was still intact, despite the fact it bordered a river and a big body of water that was part of a three-lake chain. The price had been steep but well worth it. “All finished, Ms. Allen.” One of the rental guys walked up to her with a clipboard and a big smile. “Sign here please.” While she scanned what she was signing, he lifted the brim of his cap and looked around. “You’re going to build closer to the lake? Always a good idea to stay close to your site. That way you can keep an eye on the work. Thank you,” he said after she signed and handed the clipboard back. He gave her a set of keys, thanked her again for her business, and left with the other fellow in the massive transport truck that had towed her mobile home. With branches squeaking against its sides, it lumbered slowly back down the narrow drive. She walked over to her big SUV and untied the chubby lab lying in the shade beside it. “It may only be a rental, but at least we’re not homeless anymore, hmm, Orrin?” Grinning and with his tongue lolling, the yellow dog spun, rolled, rubbed its back against the ground, crushed a patch of wild grass, and presented his belly for a rub. “Wanna help me carry my suitcases?” she asked hopefully. “Nope.

Figured as much.” Charlotte sighed when Orrin sprung up, ran to the edge of the clearing, started sniffing the undergrowth, and cocked his leg at regular intervals. The sound of an approaching vehicle stopped her after she’d unloaded the first suitcase. A massive silver pickup with four back wheels pulled into the clearing and stopped. The words Hadfield Construction were written on the side, along with a local phone number and a website address. “Orrin, wait,” she called out authoritatively when her dog started running toward the truck, tail wagging furiously and mouth open in a wide grin. He grumbled but stopped. The man who stepped out wasn’t what she’d expected. According to their references, Hadfield Construction was a third-generation fixture in these parts. It was small but worked only with the most highly recommended subcontractors, paid its bills on time, and did quality work. She’d expected a harried sixty-year-old. This guy was…delicious. The only weird thing was that Orrin whimpered and ran back to her as soon as he saw him. Mister Delicious didn’t seem to mind, or notice. He was tall, real tall, and his big, dusty work boots carried his legs and hips along on a stride that made her want to stare at that bulge of material sitting just left of his fly. A long, thick bulge and Charlotte forced herself to blink and look up. He wore tan work pants, the usual full complement of stuff clipped to his belt, and a golf shirt with the words Hadfield Construction above the pocket. His smile was about a mile wide, revealing straight and very white teeth. He made her feel less than adequate, and she ran her tongue over her own front teeth, checking for leftovers from lunch. She figured he was in his mid-thirties, about her age, and he had great hair—thick, sandy blond with just a hint of sun streak—and the way it curled against the back of his neck made her want to tease her fingers through it. Hot damn but they grew them tasty up here. “Hi. I’m David Hadfield.” “Um, hi.” Her breasts started to feel very warm and perky. Down, girls, she admonished them silently. “I’m Charlotte Allen. Thanks for coming out to give me an estimate.” “My pleasure, Ms. Allen.” He inclined his head and looked at Orrin. The dog whined a second time. “What’s his name?” David asked. His expression was open and warm despite her dog’s uncharacteristic greeting. Orrin had always been far too sociable for his own good. He was convinced everyone loved him, and he was prepared to love them right back. “Orrin,” she said. “He’s usually very friendly. I don’t know what’s got into him.”

“That’s okay.” David stopped walking, stood up straight, and looked down at the dog with a calm expression on his face. “I just came from a job site. Probably picked up something that smells funny to him.” That didn’t make much sense, but Charlotte didn’t comment. “Orrin. Come,” David said and waited patiently. Orrin hesitated, then took off in a mad race to reach the contractor. Her knee shot forward when the dog tried to shoulder her out of his way. Orrin spronked, held his mouth open at a goofy angle, dropped his chest to the ground, and splayed his paws out in an invitation to play. David laughed, and it was so deep and heartfelt, Charlotte started laughing, too. He cupped her dog’s chin in his hand, cupped its ear in his other, and proceeded to give Orrin’s face a thorough rubbing. Orrin responded by sighing lustily. He turned so he could lean his full and considerable weight against David’s shins. “Ouch,” David groused and switched to rubbing Orrin’s belly and that spot at the base of his tail. “Break anybody’s fibula this week, buddy?” “Three and counting.” Charlotte grinned. Her grin widened when David straightened and held out his hand. This close, she could see his eyes were blue, and when she looked into them, she felt like the universe was looking back at her. His grip was strong but tempered. His skin had the roughness of use but not disuse, so it didn’t scratch hers. Charlotte tried to blink, told herself it was rude to stare, but as she looked into his eyes, she imagined his hands on her body, saw hers on his. Saw them naked and lying on the ground, felt the sun on her breasts and his tongue in her navel. She could literally taste his skin as she licked every inch of him. Her pussy spasmed. Ohmygawd, I’m going to come. Her fugue broke when Orrin shoved against their legs, wanting to be the center of attention. David released her hand, smiled down at her, and took a step back. If anything, the blue in his eyes was more intense, yet, for a second, they looked far older than he was. “Um, let me show you the building site,” Charlotte managed to say without stuttering and headed toward the lake. They followed a rocky path that hugged the contours of the land, over a little rise and down a diagonal slope, stepping over roots and around shrubs. Slivers of the lake came into view between the trees. The smell of fresh water and aquatic plants intensified. Orrin scrambled along with them, darting in and out of the underbrush, investigating his new domain with an enthusiasm that was infectious. He chased a squirrel up a tree, and it barked down at him brazenly, almost drowning out the birds singing nearby.

“Here?” David said and paused. Her brow furrowed. “How did you know?” “It’s a logical choice,” he answered easily, pulled a tape measure off his belt, and started walking in a straight line. “It’s relatively flat; there are no specimen trees here you’d want to preserve.” His voice faded in and out a little as he walked, parallel to the lake at first, then straight at it, then back the way he came. Every now and then he’d drop the end of his measuring tape and walk backward while it reeled out. He started typing things into his iPhone. “The spot’s plenty deep enough for a septic system behind the house and far enough away from the lake so the weeping bed doesn’t contaminate it. That and local bylaws require a setback.” He turned to her and smiled. “Besides, the view from up here will be terrific in the fall. Come take a look.” Charlotte was drawn to him like he was iron and she had magnets implanted in her butt. When he held out his hand she took it, but he only turned her and, with his fingers resting lightly on her shoulder, had her stand with her back to him. “That’s what you could see through your front window every day for the rest of your life.” Her breath caught, and she smiled. She could see it all. Judicious pruning of undergrowth would give a clear view over the water. The trees hugging the edge of the rise would interrupt that view just enough to keep her from being overlooked by anyone on the lake, plus they would shade the house in summer and break up the wind in the winter. Mentally, she started picking paint colors for her deck chairs. “Okay. Finished,” he said at last, gave her a smile that got her boobs all perky again, and followed her back up the path to her mobile home. Without asking, he walked to her SUV and started unloading luggage and boxes. Charlotte held open the trailer door for him. “Thank you. Drop them anywhere inside.” He carried three suitcases into her home. “Smells new,” he commented after sniffing the interior. He dropped off the last load, toed off his work boots, and left them just inside the door. Hmm. Bonus points for chivalry and tidiness, Charlotte thought. She fished out her coffeemaker, some grounds, and, after a longer search, two mugs. “I haven’t gone into town to shop yet, so there’s no milk.” “Black’s fine,” David said. “May I?” he asked and pointed to the little built-in kitchen table. Charlotte nodded. He had to tear the packing plastic off the cushions before he could sit down. Opening up a laptop case, he pulled out a notepad and got to work while she set out water for the dog, then started unpacking glasses and silverware. When the coffee was ready, she joined him at the table.

“Thanks,” he said when she set a mug beside him. “Just a few questions before I can finish my quote. You’ve bought a pre-fabricated house, correct? The…” His voice faded as he checked his notes. “Northern Inspiration model? Hmm. Appropriate name.” “Uh huh.” She blew across her coffee, wondering if he’d be interested in a game of footsy under the table before she gave herself a mental smack. Keep it in your pants, honey. “You’ll be living here alone?” “Yes.” “Good.” Her eyebrow shot up, and he flushed. “Good for your septic system,” he amended with a grin. “This site…”—David pointed downward—“for your mobile home has a temporary leaching tank. Perfectly acceptable for one person for the summer. Just limit yourself to two or three loads of laundry a day. You’ll need something permanent for the main house. And a well. I assume you’re hooked up to lake water now?” “Yes. There’s a water-treatment machine sitting at the back of the trailer. I had one installed so I could drink water from the tap.” “Hmm. Well, I should look at that, too.” He made another note. “So, you’ll need permits, a concrete slab poured, hydro carried down to the site, a well, finishing of your pre-fab once the manufacturer drops the sections in place, and a permanent septic system.” He took a sip of his coffee and looked up at her. “Do you plan on living here summers only, or will it be year round?” “Year round.” “Even better.” David grinned. “I get to sell you a beefier weeping system to keep your pipes from backing up in the winter.” Charlotte shuddered. “Does that actually happen?” “Welcome to country living.” He smiled at her over the rim of his mug. She felt like he was flirting with her. It felt great but a little weird, too. She was a pear. He was a pagan love god in steel-toed boots. David continued. “Maggie and her friends will be happy if you live here year round. They’re big fans, and they want bragging rights. There’s a couple other writers living in the area, but I know the ladies like your stuff better.” When he finally looked away, he started keying figures into his laptop. He fed sheets of paper into the tiny printer he pulled out of his case. “Okay. Here’s my quote on the prep and finishing of Ms. Charlotte Allen’s pre-fab, modular home.” After scanning the printouts, he signed them, clipped them and one of his business cards

together, and slid the package across the table. He finished the last of his coffee and started packing up. “The job should take three months from start to finish, provided your house is delivered on schedule.” “When can you start?” “Immediately.” Once his case was zipped up and his iPhone was again hooked onto his belt, David stood up, headed for the door, and started pulling his boots on. He rubbed Orrin’s chin before easing the big dog’s head out of the way. “Um…immediately?” He looked up at the hesitancy in her voice. “Look, Mr. Hadfield, I’m sorry this is going to sound harsh, but the best companies are always booked months in advance. If you can start immediately…” She let her voice trail off. “Isn’t there somebody in your company a little older? Maybe with a little more experience I could deal with?” “My father passed,” he said with a quiet shrug. “It’s just me now. And I’m older than I look,” he added and the corner of his mouth quirked up. Straightening, he leaned his shoulder against the edge of the door. “If it helps, I did have a job booked this summer. My own.” His grin widened. “Bought a pretty piece of land just outside of town and got permits to build a vacation home on spec. Next thing I know the province is all over my ass because two eagles have decided to take up residence in a tree right beside what was going to be the site for my well. And not just any eagles either. Apparently golden eagles are rare, especially in these parts, and these ones are nesting. My permits have been pulled and the government’s dug in its heels.” “What’ll happen?” “Oh, the birds will migrate come fall, and I’ll get my permits back. However, that leaves me with no work for the summer.” He shrugged again, and she really, really liked the way those big shoulders rolled. “I was going to call some buddies down in the city and ask them to hire me on as a sub. But a summer in Toronto versus a summer up here? Hmmph. That’s no contest at all.” Opening the door, he stepped outside. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Ms. Allen. Give me a call and tell me what you decide after you get quotes from the other two builders you’re talking to.” Her brow furrowed. “It’s a small town,” David added with one of those grins that got her boobs interested all over again, nodded, and shut the door behind him.

****

That night, as David leaned against the window of his motel room, he thought about Charlotte. He remembered, over and over, how he’d backed away from her after angling her toward that great view of the lake, giving her and her moment some time together while he finished taking measurements and notes. She’d been wearing a pair of those pedal pushers and a T-shirt short enough to give him a spectacular view of her ass. He’d had to adjust his arousal before it got out of hand and take another step back. He’d followed her back up the hill, torturing himself by deliberately staying a few paces behind, enjoying the view every hip-swaying step of the way. Charlotte’s ass was round, full, and perfect. It tapered down into lush thighs, and he ached to feel all that warm, womanly softness wrapped around him. He shook his head violently and turned away from the window before his urges made him cranky.

Chapter Three

Sitting back in her task chair, Charlotte crossed her arms over her chest, tight. The bluish glare from her monitor highlighted the name that had popped up in her inbox. [email protected]. “What does he want?” she muttered and thought about simply hitting Delete. Leonard Reece, her ex-husband and all-around dirtbag. “Oh what the hell.” Charlotte clicked on the message.

Thanks for not deleting this before you read it. I guess I couldn’t blame you if you did. Heard you’d bought a place in the country and wondered if you had room for the French rolltop desk. My condo’s too small for it, and you always liked it more than I did. That’s why I fought so hard for it during the settlement…that’s a black mark against me.

Let me know. Len.

Charlotte leaned back in her chair again. A kindness and an apology from the original Mr. Dirtbag? Well, will wonders never cease? She worded her reply carefully, let some wariness creep into it, accepted his offer, and hit Send before she could second-guess herself. A week later, Charlotte hung onto Orrin’s leash and watched from a distance as a big bulldozer crept down off a flatbed ramp, turned slowly, dropped its blade, and started mowing down a swath of underbrush on its way to her building site. In minutes, what had been a footpath was a smooth, level gouge in the shape of a curved drive. An industrial chipper followed the bulldozer. Men in hard hats and T-shirts marked with fluorescent edging gathered up the wood and threw it into the chipper. “Good day for leveling your site.” Charlotte jumped. What with the noise, she hadn’t noticed David pull up. His shiny pickup was parked next to her SUV. Orrin wagged his tail, and David obliged by rubbing a spot between the dog’s eyes. “Oh. Hi,” she blurted out, loud enough to be heard. “I said it’s a good day,” David repeated and flashed her one of those grins that made her wish her favorite romantic lead was real and lounging in her bed wearing nothing but this guy’s face. “Dry. No rain in the forecast for a couple of days.” She felt her brow furrow. “I’ve lined up heavy-equipment subs this week. They’ll compact your drive when they move in and out. After, I’ll lay down a couple inches of gravel so nothing will get bogged down when it does rain.” “Ah.” Charlotte nodded like she had a clue what he was talking about. “It’s a good thing,” David assured her and walked back to his truck. He returned with some long wooden spikes, a roll of caution tape, and a big mallet. “What are you doing?” “Staking out a parking lot for the subs.” He started pounding stakes into the ground off to one side of her new driveway. “Guys will be lazy when they can get away with it. They’d fill this whole area with vehicles and equipment if I let them. You’d have to step around cement mixers and wheelbarrows just to get out your front door.” After he’d staked out an area big enough for at least a dozen vehicles, he roped it off with the tape and hit the top of each stake with a shot of fluorescent orange spray paint. “There. That ought to do it,” he said as he stepped back, looked at his work, and returned his tools to his truck. When he came back, he was carrying a small, wrapped package and a file folder.

“For me?” Charlotte said as she accepted the package. “Yep.” He headed for her mobile home. “May I?” he asked with his hand on the door. “Sure. Of course,” she answered as she pulled the wrapping open. There was a small, digital camera inside, along with a package of photo-sized paper. When she looked back, she saw David taping a series of building permits along the bottom of her living room window. He taped them to the inside, facing out, and they were clearly visible from the driveway. When he returned, she smiled up at him. “Thank you,” she said, holding up the camera. “But what’s this for?” “Thought you might like to build a photo album for yourself of your house being built.” “Ah. Like baby pictures.” “Yeah. Something like that.” He grinned, went back to his truck, and came back with two hard hats. He handed one to her. “Want to watch them carve out your building site? Only you should leave Orrin inside. It’ll be kind of loud down there.” “Hmm. Good idea.” When Charlotte came back from locking the dog inside the trailer, she was wearing a pair of sturdy boots and putting the hat on. He shot her feet a look of approval before looking up. “Damn that hat looks cute on you.” “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Hadfield?” Her brow came up but so did the corner of her mouth. “Yes, I am,” he said firmly as he laid a hand on the small of her back and walked her down to the building site. “Won’t Mrs. Hadfield mind?” “There is no Mrs. Hadfield. And at the moment, no contenders for the title either.” He guided her well away from the wood chipper and they kept walking. “How about you?” “I’m divorced.” This time, David’s brow furrowed. “You say that like it was ugly.” The roar of the bulldozer grew louder. “It was. I’m now disenchanted, bitter, and like to kick small animals,” Charlotte quipped with only some sincerity. “But I console myself all the way to the bank when I think about that prenup I made him sign and the fact I don’t have to pay the creep alimony.” “Perfect,” David sung out. “So when I convince you to marry me, I’ll be landing myself a rich babe.”

He was so outrageous, Charlotte simply laughed. David had her stand well back from the staked-out area the bulldozer was clearing. Conversation was difficult, so he kept a hand on her shoulder, or on her back, steering her and pointing out what was happening. She snapped pictures of underbrush being cleared and fed through the chipper. The site was leveled; big rocks were piled off to one side. The bulldozer turned away and crept back up the road. Charlotte captured it all. Shaking her head to clear out the ringing, she flexed her jaw and wiggled a forefinger in her ear. David was already walking around the clearing, righting stakes and checking angles. “Now that it’s level,” he called out and waved her over, “how about moving everything two feet east. You’ll get a better view through your front window, which will be right…” He got out his tape measure, dragged the heel of his boot across the black, freshly turned earth to draw two parallel lines eight feet apart. “Here,” he finished with quiet authority. Again he took hold of her hand, turned her, and stood behind her while she looked out over the view. “Perfect,” she sighed. “It certainly is,” David replied, dragged his eyes away from her ass, and dredged up a friendly smile to cover his lechery.

****

…so let me know if you want to hire a moving company or if you want to pick the desk up yourself. Charlotte gave serious thought to phoning up Len’s work and confirming it was really his e-mail she was reading. Oh sure, in the beginning he’d been charming, engaging…all the things that had swept her off her feet. The last couple of years they were together, he’d been withdrawn, bored with her and life, mean, and petulant. If you come on a weekend, I’ll carry it out for you. If not, I’ll send you a key and let the concierge know you’re coming. Let me know. Did provincial health insurance cover personality transplants? Or had he paid for one out-ofpocket? It’s a few years late in coming but thanks for being there. Putting up with me. My therapist says I’m good at deflecting. I’m trying not to do that anymore. Maybe that makes up for being a lousy husband? Len.

She stared at the screen. A therapist? The man she’d been married to used to crack jokes and thump his chest whenever he heard about somebody in therapy. If she’d known he was capable of change without her, she would have left years ago. The next morning, David arrived just before seven. He parked in the lot he’d staked out the day before. Charlotte rubbed her forehead and suppressed a yawn. What with the unpacking and the construction, her writing schedule was shot. She’d got in a few hours late last night but was paying for it now. Orrin seemed unfazed when he greeted David at the door. “Coffee’s on,” she said as she invited her contractor in. Even freshly showered and wearing a hint of makeup, she still felt dowdy next to him. “Hmm. You’re a goddess,” he sighed with appreciation and set his laptop on her kitchen table. “True,” Charlotte acknowledged with a shrug and filled two mugs. “Why did they dump all the woodchips in the parking area?” she asked and set out milk and sugar. “Not dump, spread,” he corrected gently. “Thanks. To keep the mud down. Nobody likes to climb into their big, flashy work truck with muddy boots. We might not give a rat’s ass about leaving the seat up, but don’t mess with our pretty trucks.” Charlotte laughed. What was it about this guy that had her fawning and preening like an adolescent? Maybe it was just the lack of sleep. “What are you up to now?” she asked, making an effort to get her head on straight. She set the mugs on the table and sat down across from him. Orrin dropped his chin on David’s lap and looked up at him adoringly. Seems like she wasn’t the only one smitten. “Giving you your project schedule for the next two weeks.” He hit a few more keys, and his little printer whirred to life. “It’s flexible within limits, so if you need a day here and there with nobody around to disturb you, I can do that. Keep in mind, though, if you build in too many delays, the job will extend into the fall, when I’ll be working on the hardware store’s new home improvement center.” Nodding, she scanned the flowchart he handed her. “I was wondering,” she asked, “how you managed to book the subs so quick. Getting somebody in to dig a well is one thing, but hiring a bulldozer and pouring concrete? Doesn’t that require more lead time?” “Definitely. Hmm. Good coffee.” He smacked his lips and took another sip. “You lucked out, Ms. Allen. I had subs lined up to work on my place. I cancelled the ones you won’t need and simply switched the job site for the others.” “Charlotte.” “Hmm?”

“My name is Charlotte.” He grinned. “Well, I’m glad we got that out of the way. Call me David.” “All right, David. And it seems I should be grateful to those eagles of yours.” “Yeah. Me and my eagles.” He shook his head, smiled, and pointed to the papers in her hand. “Today, I thought I’d knock together an enclosure for your water-treatment unit. It’s not rated to sit outside. The concrete pavers it’s resting on are fine, but it needs something to keep the rain out.” “Um, okay. I don’t remember seeing that in your original quote.” Even though Hadfield Construction’s references had checked out and the name had been on the list of recommended project managers the pre-fab home builder had supplied, Charlotte was worried. Was David going to pad the numbers with add-ons? “It wasn’t in the quote,” he said, took back the list, and hit four items on it with a highlighter. “Neither were these. I didn’t spot them until I did a walk around your trailer. Your water-treatment unit needs to be protected from the elements. If you pay for the materials, I’ll build it for free.” One corner of his mouth quirked up when her brow furrowed. “You’re new around here. Consider it your official welcome-to-the-neighborhood gift. It’ll cost you two sheets of exterior-grade plywood. Cook dinner for me one evening and we’ll call it even.” He handed the papers back to her. “Make lunch for me for a week and I’ll throw in the deck labor, too.” Her skepticism waning, Charlotte looked down the list. “Do I even need a deck?” “No, but you’re going to want one. You might get tired of being cooped up in a trailer all day, working.” Pulling out a sheet of paper, he started sketching. “Just something small and simple out back, more of a floating rack of pressure-treated lumber than a deck, actually. Just big enough for a couple of chairs, maybe a table. You’re going to want to buy yourself a barbeque.” He stroked Orrin’s ear when the big lab thumped his tail on the floor. “Besides, I’ve got nothing else to do for a while, and I hate having nothing to do.” “A barbeque, huh? Let me guess, dinner should be grilled steak.” “Or a chicken on one of those rotisserie units. They’re on sale this week.” “How convenient.” “It is, isn’t it?” he added, and she swore his eyes twinkled. “So do I unload the plywood I bought yesterday and get to work?” She thought about it for about a second and a half. “Yes. And thank you, David. For being honest and more than fair.” Picking up her hand, he kissed it. “Always,” he murmured, stood, and carried his mug to the sink. He stood over it, drank down the rest of his coffee, then rinsed out his mug.

Blinking, Charlotte stared dumbly at her hand. Wow. Tingly just took on a whole new meaning. Although she tried hard to keep her butt in the chair that day, Charlotte couldn’t help stepping away from her keyboard to check on David. Maybe check him out was a more apt description. Especially when he took off his shirt. His chest was smooth, sculpted, and her mouth dropped open when he slathered sunblock over himself. After that, coming up with anything for her weekly promotional blog was a write-off. So was thinking straight and breathing with her mouth closed. She let herself go out only once every thirty minutes, ostensibly to check that Orrin wasn’t being a nuisance, offering David water or lemonade. Smiling at him with her shoulders so far back her boobs stuck out and her back hurt. Oh good heavens, she was pathetic, but a part of her really, really liked it. Mid-morning, when she looked out the window—again—David was sitting on a pile of lumber with a small cooler beside him. It was the absence of noise that had drawn her this time. He was eating a banana and offering small bits of it to Orrin. In between bites, David would throw a ball, make Orrin bring it back and sit. Hmmph. If nothing else, her dog would be in better shape if he kept this up. The next morning, David arrived with a box of sticky buns, and wood to frame her footings. A flatbed truck lumbered down her drive awhile later, bringing in a backhoe with a post-hole digger attachment on the back. When the portable outhouse arrived, it was so cute she took a picture of that, too. “So what are you working on?” David asked as he laid his napkin on his lap. She’d made him lunch, as agreed. They were sitting across from each other in her little kitchen dining nook. He cut into the grilled chicken breast she’d put on his plate. “The next sequel to Devil’s Kiss.” If I can keep my butt in the chair for longer than five minutes at a stretch, she added mentally. “Hmm. Good.” She didn’t know if he meant the food or the book. “I liked the first two,” David added. “Especially Artemus. No pun intended, but he’s a character I can sink my teeth into.” Charlotte grinned. Artemus, a vampire with a tortured soul, was one of her favorite lead characters. She wove him in and out of her heroines’ lives, only to have him lose out on love in the end. Sadistic, yes, but her readers loved it. “You’re, er, not exactly my target audience.” “True. And I’d probably like your books even better if there were more car chases.” He forked some pasta salad into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “Or more fighting. Still, I like them. Maggie says I’m in touch with my feminine side. Whatever the hell that means,” he added with a grin and a shrug, and nodded when she offered him more juice. “I started reading your stuff because she told me about the vampires in them.”

“You like vampire stories?” “I’ve got an interest in them,” he said dryly. “I like how you write them. You’re sympathetic to them. I like that. Plus they’re always very…sensual.” Nodding, Charlotte returned her focus to her lunch. “Leave it, buddy. Go lie down.” David’s quiet, firm voice brought her head up. Orrin was mooching. But when wasn’t he? She had to admire David’s determination not to let those big, sad brown eyes sucker him into handing over food. But just because she was a soft touch didn’t mean everybody else was, too. Orrin grumbled quietly and put a paw on David’s knee. “Absolutely no way.” David shot the dog a look, and his voice was low and commanding. “Go. Lie. Down.” Orrin grumbled again, then slowly made his way to his bed in the corner of the living room, grumbled some more, and eventually lay down. He turned his big eyes on Charlotte. “Don’t look at him, Charlotte,” David said quietly. “He’s got you wrapped around his paw, and he knows it.” One blond brow arched up. “Unless you want a fat, out of shape dog that’ll keel over from a coronary in about six years from now.” His comment was high-handed but correct. She couldn’t fault him for the latter. “I’m a complete marshmallow,” she sighed in agreement. “Maybe. But think how much more fun he’ll have running around here with you if he’s in good enough shape to enjoy it. Anyway, he’s your dog. I shouldn’t butt in.” “No, you’re right. I mean you give him treats but just little slices of banana or apple. You also make him run around for them. I didn’t even know he liked bananas.” “Well, that makes two things he and I have in common.” David nodded when she reached for his plate and added more salad. “Two?” “We both like bananas. And you.” When he took his plate out of her hand, his fingers grazed hers, and the look in his eye told Charlotte it was deliberate.

****

I’ve dated a couple of times since the divorce. Nothing serious. There are some seriously fuckedup single women out there. Maybe if I’d known I would have been nicer to you. Hell, I should have been nicer to you. “Okay, universe, who is this new Leonard Reece and what have you done with my ex?” Charlotte typed back flippantly. She wanted the rolltop desk enough not to mention the fact it took a fucked-up single man to attract that kind of woman. Yeah, funny. Don’t fall out of your chair, but a couple of months back, I realized I was unhappy. I was unhappy married. I was unhappy not being married, only I was lonely, too. Anyway, Bill Weston said this therapist helped him after his divorce, so I gave it a shot. Mostly I talk stuff through with the doc. “And what does the doc say?” That I’m responsible for my own happiness. How’s that for a revelation? Came as a hell of a shock to me. Anyway, bye for now. It’s nice being able to talk to you again.

****

“So where does all that inspiration come from?” Taking a step forward in the buffet line, Charlotte grinned at her real-estate agent. “Little things that happen every day,” she answered, spooned some very fluffy-looking scrambled eggs on her plate, and took another shuffling step forward. “Left to ferment in a head that likes to make up weird stuff.” She followed Maggie over to a table where five other women were seated. As she took her chair, she looked out the big window-fronted wall at the pretty lake beyond. “Speaking of fermenting…” One of the women, a twenty-something bank teller, picked up a bottle of sparkling white wine and topped up Charlotte’s glass. “Here’s to our newest member of the Brunch Bunch.” “Here, here.” Seven women, Charlotte included, lifted their glasses and drank. Earlier in the week, Maggie had invited Charlotte to the monthly ritual. The women gathered faithfully to partake of the Ash Grove Inn’s delicious Sunday brunch, get caught up, talk scandal, have a good time, and eat too much. They were a diverse group ranging in age from twenty-five to seventy-five, give or take. One was a retired commercial artist who now painted wildflowers in her spare time. Another ran the local fried-chicken

joint. The only thing they seemed to have in common was a desire to get out and have fun, have a few laughs, and they’d all been born and raised in Barry’s Bay. “Tomorrow, I want to introduce you to the woman who owns the Lakeside Pavilion,” Maggie said, pointed her fork in Charlotte’s direction, then took a bite of freshly made waffle. “It’s this eclectic, artsy place not far from here. Pictures, glassware,” she added after swallowing. “Funky but fun. They also have a huge book section. We should see about setting up a book signing for you this summer.” “That’d be terrific, Charlotte,” one retiree piped up. “Sounds exciting. I’ve never been to a book signing.” Her face fell a little. “Would I have to buy one of your books again?” “Absolutely not.” Charlotte squeezed the woman’s hand, then released it. “Bring one you already own. Heck, bring a scrap of paper or a shopping list. I’m easy.” The women laughed obligingly, then fell into a whispered, titillated conversation about Charlotte’s most recent book and its hero—a tall, dark, and intimidating stud with a penchant for Japanese rope bondage and female backsides. “So how’s the new house coming along?” one of the women asked when they’d exhausted the stud conversation. “Good,” Charlotte replied happily. “Everything’s on schedule. Although the noise is driving me insane.” There were words of sympathy from the two women who’d been there before. “Hadfield Construction’s been great,” she added with a nod to Maggie. “Thanks for the recommendation.” “Ah. David,” the women murmured, almost at the same time. Charlotte felt her brow furrow. For just an instant, all six of her breakfast companions had the same look of sated sexuality. One woman touched her own thigh, licked her lips, and stared off dreamily. Another caressed her throat, grinned sensually then dropped her hand to her lap. The moment passed without comment then the conversation quickly switched to the road repair on County Road 62, resuming for the third summer in a row, and when it would ever end. A few days later, David was again sitting at her table, spreading margarine on one of the oatmeal-raisin muffins she’d just taken out of the oven. He was also texting. “Weather’s holding,” he said and looked outside at the sunshine brushing the treetops. “Which we need. Your footings are being poured tomorrow. The slab after that.” “And after that, they’ll backfill the site?” “Yep. Maybe I shouldn’t keep you this well informed.” His eyes narrowed. “Another few months and I’ll be competing with you for jobs.”

“Not a chance,” she huffed. “Too much dust.” David chuckled, bit into his muffin, and made a quiet, yummy sound. Charlotte puffed up unconsciously. She continued. “Why didn’t you have them put in the septic system while the heavy equipment was here?” The machinery was starting to get on her nerves. “Good question,” he mumbled around a mouthful of muffin, which he washed down with a sip of coffee. “Your pre-fab is delivered and set up by heavy trucks. Any one of them is big enough to crush your weeping bed or, even worse, crack a septic tank. It costs more to bring the backhoe in twice, but it’s worth it in the long run.” He devoured the fresh fruit she spooned onto his plate. “So why’d you decide to leave the city?” he asked out of the blue. “My mother died two years ago.” She sighed. “After my separation, I moved in with her. I was lonely and depressed, she was elderly and starting to need some help, so it worked out well for both of us. She was still living in the house she and my father had had for years. When she died,” the corners of Charlotte’s mouth turned down, “I sold her house because it was too big for one person. It was in a desirable neighborhood, so it sold for a very nice price. My ex sued me for half.” David’s eyes darkened. “He didn’t win, of course.” She shrugged. “What with the prenup and the sale coming after our divorce. He did it just to annoy me, maybe to get me to throw a few bucks his way to shut him up.” She shrugged again. “The case didn’t even make it past a preliminary hearing. Anyway, by then I was sick of the city, which is stupid because there’s so much networking there. We had a cottage when I was a kid, and I’ve felt a pull to move to the country for a while now. I guess ever since my mother died,” she admitted quietly. “Hmm. Not the best circumstances, but I’m glad they landed you here.” David nodded when she offered him more fruit. “He’s been e-mailing me lately.” “Who?” David sounded demanding. She let it pass without comment. “My ex. Thing is, he was a real ass for over a year before he left me. Now all of a sudden he’s in therapy and says he’s trying to be a better person.” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know whether it’s genuine or if he’s just lonely and using me again.” After a dismissive wave, she picked up her coffee cup. “Enough of him. He’s a narcissistic creep. Or at least he will be until he can demonstrate some serious personality adjustment beyond a few cutely worded e-mails.” Charlotte turned her attention to David. “So how about you? Local gossip says you weren’t born here and your father worked for a greatuncle some years back.” She grinned at the look on his face. “Small town. Lots of retirees who like to talk.”

“Hmmph,” David grumbled, much like Orrin did when he was annoyed. “England, originally. London,” he added. “I thought I could make out a hint of an accent. Here and there sometimes. Cockney?” “Yes. But I’ve been here a long time.” “Any family still back there?” “No. I was married though. Years ago. She died.” “Oh. I’m so sorry.” Her face fell. “Thank you, but it has been years. We were children, really, when we got married.” That part was true. It wasn’t uncommon for the offspring of tradespeople to marry at fifteen, not back in the eighteenth century anyway. After that the conversation lagged, and they finished eating in silence. He helped her clear the table, then pulled out a bottle of sunblock. “Would you?” he asked and peeled off his T-shirt. He handed the bottle to her and turned around. What was this? A trick question? With undisguised glee, Charlotte spilled sunblock on her palm, smeared it between her hands to warm it, and touched the broad spread of his lats. His skin was cool at first, smooth, and a supple barrier between her fingers and all those delicious muscles. She rubbed his shoulders, traced his spine, spread her fingers over his waist, and had to keep reminding herself not to nuzzle her breasts into him. Long after his skin had sucked in the lotion, she was still rubbing and massaging. “Hmm. If I’d known your hands were this good, I would have taken this job for free. Or for cost, at least.” He made a low sound, part rumble and part sigh. “Don’t stop on my account,” he said when Charlotte finally dragged her hands away from him. “You’re such a flirt,” she teased and turned to wash her hands, hiding her amped-up libido behind humor. “Not usually,” he said, pulled his T-shirt back on, and reached for his boots. “Seems I keep making an exception for you.” He flashed her a naughty grin and opened the door. “Come on, Orrin. Let’s work off breakfast,” he said, and the dog shoved past him in a mad tail-wagging dash to get outside.

****

When David returned to the trailer for lunch, he heard her talking out back and followed the sound of her voice. He found her pacing the little deck he’d built, reading from a sheaf of papers in her hand. Orrin, who’d abandoned him a couple of hours earlier when the hammering got too loud, was lying in the sunshine. At David’s approach, the dog thumped his tail on the ground. It took David a minute to realize Charlotte was reading her writing out loud. He picked out Artemus’s name once or twice. “…his tongue across her supple breast. A tooth snagged her skin, and she squirmed in his arms as he sucked…” Charlotte’s cute butt twitched as she walked, and her free hand moved through the air. She looked up when Orrin lifted his head. “Does that help?” David asked, looking at the papers and keeping his tone carefully neutral. “Reading your work out loud?” “Yes.” Color tinted her cheeks, and he thought she looked adorable. “I hear things my eyes don’t pick up on the screen. Um, lunch is ready when you are.” “Great. I’m starving.” He climbed up on the deck and pulled off his boots before he pulled open the back door for her. “You know I’d love to hear you read for me anytime. The hot parts, especially,” he whispered as she walked past. Charlotte turned, blushed, but apparently couldn’t think of anything to say because she simply gave his shoulder a little push and kept walking. Chuckling, David followed her and Orrin inside. By Saturday, the foundation was poured, power lines were running to the site, the well was ready, and a four-inch bed of gravel had been laid on the driveway. David knew he wasn’t expected back for a week, but he found it hard to stay away from Charlotte. From the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d had an urge to seduce her, and that need grew every day. He loved the way she smelled, her smile, her mind—everything about her—but for the first time in almost two hundred years, he didn’t just want to seduce and feed. He didn’t even want to be just her friend. He wanted Charlotte, all of her. He wanted to change her, make her the one thing he’d never had—a lover he could keep beside him for eternity and never have to share her affection with anyone. “Well, maybe I’d share her with you,” he said when Orrin came loping around the side of the trailer. The dog leaned heavily into David’s leg and looked up at him adoringly. “Where’s Charlotte, buddy? Show me.” Orrin took off around the back of the trailer. David followed…and stopped dead in his tracks. Charlotte was asleep, lying on her back on an outdoor lounge. Beside her, an open notebook sat askew

on the deck. Bright sunlight played over every inch of her, especially her bare breasts. A shirt that matched her shorts was slung over the back of the lounge. He took a step toward her and stopped. Her breasts were perfect, small…like ripe pears sitting on her chest. The sound of her heart beating filled his head slowly, and he could smell the life in her, the warmth of her blood. A need to kiss her, to touch all that warm, living skin twisted his gut. Instead of giving into it, David slipped her shirt off the back of the lounge. He covered her with it and turned away without staring down at that sweet pink mouth of hers, without kissing her. Orrin barked when he started to leave. Charlotte started, lifted her head, blinked, and looked around. “It’s only me,” David called out just before he disappeared around the corner. “I wanted to check how the concrete was drying after last night’s rain. Great boobs by the way,” he added and headed down the hill. Grabbing hold of her shirt and covering herself with it, Charlotte huffed, swung her legs around, and sat up. “One day to myself…is that too much to ask?” she bitched at Orrin. The dog’s head drooped. He gave her a wary look and slunk off to follow David. When David knocked on her trailer door a little while later, Charlotte was ready for him. “You know it’s bad enough with all that blasted heavy equipment rolling in and out of here day in and day out,” she barked when she opened the door. Watching her guardedly, he stepped inside. “Trucks coming and going. Doors slamming. Guys yelling into cell phones and bitching about the reception.” Folding her arms over her chest, she glared up at him. “The damn birds start singing before five every morning. Some squirrels or whatever they are drop down onto the roof of the trailer and run around up there like they’re dancing the cha-cha.” “You’re…you’re complaining to me about the birds?” David asked incredulously. “Yes. No,” she qualified, and her mouth thinned. “My writing pays for all this, and I haven’t produced squat since I got here. I moved up here for the quiet, dammit.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Charlotte continued her rant. “At least in the city there’s ambient noise all the time. Here I get sucked into the quiet at night, so when everything starts up again at half past the stroke of too-damnedbloody-early, I’m up for the rest of the day. And when I finally do get a Saturday to myself and am finally able to catch up on some sleep, you have to drop by.” Something in his expression dimmed, like she’d hurt him. She ramped her anger back. “Next time, just knock first, okay?” The corner of David’s mouth turned up, but there was no humor in his expression. “Yes. Of course.”

“So how’s the foundation holding up? After the rain?” “It’s good. I’ll, um, be going now. I’ll see you a week from Monday,” he added as he stepped back outside. “Monday?” “Your house is being delivered then,” he reminded her and sounded deliberately gentle when he said it. He grinned. “You can spend all next week with your shirt off if you like. There won’t be a soul around to disturb you.” When he climbed into his truck and waved before driving off, Charlotte felt like throwing something at him. The only thing that held her back was his comment about liking her boobs. Although she didn’t really believe him, she wanted to.

Chapter Four

“Hi, Charlotte.” Her hand still on the trailer door after answering the knock, Charlotte blinked at the perky blonde standing outside. “Um. Eva. Hi.” It took Charlotte a second to dredge up her name. Eva Duke was the bank teller she’d met at last Sunday’s brunch. “Sorry for disturbing you around dinnertime. I was hoping to catch David before he left for the day.”

It was Monday and, as promised, he hadn’t been around since Saturday. “He’s not scheduled to be back until next week.” “Oh. Monday’s our, uh, date night.” Eva held out a bakery box. “I brought dessert. Banana cream pie. His favorite.” She said it with just a little too much intimacy, and Charlotte wondered if there was an agenda in play here. “Er, sounds like fun,” Charlotte deadpanned. She shifted her weight onto her other foot to block the doorway and make it clear no invitation to come in would be forthcoming. She crossed her arms over her chest. Not because she was defensive, not because the twenty-five-year-old’s overexposed breasts seemed to defy gravity, not because Eva was at least ten years younger and so cute Charlotte felt like slapping her…no, not at all. Charlotte just didn’t like being played, and she had a feeling that’s what was going on. “It always is,” Eva replied and ran her tongue over her lower lip. Charlotte resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “If he’s not here, do you know where he is?” Okay. Reality check, chick. If you’re dating the guy, you should know how to get in touch with him. Smiling thinly, Charlotte said, “Not a clue. Maybe if you call his cell…?” She wondered if she’d have to give the kid the number. “Oh. Yeah. I’ll do that. Bye, Charlotte,” Eva said as she turned on her spiky heels, twitched her disgustingly pert little behind inside her short, tight skirt, and headed back to her car. “Nice trailer by the way,” she added with a wave. Charlotte waved back only because her mother had instilled manners in her from an early age. She shut the door and made a mental note to change banks. She didn’t see David for an entire week. That wasn’t a bad thing, although she found herself missing him occasionally, especially at mealtimes. The routine she settled into was different from the one she’d stuck to for years in the city. Here, because she had no choice, she got up early. She wrote until lunchtime, then took a walk, followed up by a long nap, either on the deck or curled up in bed. After dinner, she always got in a good, solid five or so hours of writing before calling it a day. The property was becoming more familiar to her as she and Orrin explored it on their walks. The forest was less dusty than the road fronting her property, and she didn’t have to keep him on leash. Following quirky little animal trails, she wondered about the paths she found that were wider, if they were manmade and how long they’d been there.

On Wednesday, she stumbled onto the settler’s cabin. It had been on the survey map of the property, and Charlotte realized she’d been searching for it. Expecting to find the shell of a log building with a caved-in ceiling, she was surprised to find a clearing, cut-back undergrowth, and what had to be new shingles on the roof. The walls were thick, made of square-cut logs, and the chinking was in good repair. A narrow, rutted drive, one that probably ran out to the road, ended beside the door. She circled the building, peeked into the little outhouse standing apart from the cabin. The floor looked swept and there was fresh toilet paper inside. “Hmm,” she said to Orrin when she stepped out. “Didn’t know the original settlers preferred Royale. The previous owners probably used the place for guests or something. Well, guests they didn’t really like,” she thought out loud when she realized there were no hydro lines in sight. The plain wood-plank door of the cabin opened when she pressed down on the thumb latch. “Wow.” The interior was sparsely furnished but eerily clean. A washtub hung on the wall, an iron pot sat near the fireplace, and a tall cupboard held antique plates, cups, and cookware. A hand pump sat beside a large, square soapstone sink. Near that was a narrow dining table with a single chair. There was one other chair inside, a rocker, and it sat in front of a window. The glass in the window was rippled and distorted the view outside. A bed, chest, and clothes cupboard rounded out the furnishings. There were fresh linens on the bed. “It’s like a settler just moved out,” she whispered to Orrin as he sniffed his way around the interior. Touching a square nail head protruding from the wall and the pale rectangle of squared-off log beneath it, she traced the outline where a picture used to hang. “Spooky, huh?” There were no personal possessions inside the cabin. No pictures, books, calendar, or clothes, although there were spaces where they clearly used to be. Orrin followed her outside. Latching the door carefully, she gave the cabin one long, last look before they made their way down to the lake to continue their walk.

****

The day Charlotte’s pre-fab arrived, she had her camera out and ready before the sun came up. David arrived with sweet rolls from town and the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old. “We couldn’t have asked for better weather,” he said and rubbed his hands together. He accepted a second cup of coffee from her before turning back to the thick supply list the fabricator had mailed to him a week ago. “The rain we got a few nights back dried up, so there’s no chance the flatbed will get bogged down. And if the rain holds off for another forty-eight hours, I’ll be able to get your roof waterproofed.” The slow creak and rumble of heavy machinery coming up the driveway brought their heads up.

“Ha,” David barked with excitement, bent to Orrin, and rubbed his face with open zeal. “Ready for the really cool part to begin?” he asked Charlotte, grabbed her hand, and dragged her to the door. The whole process took only a few hours. They’d told her it would be quick, but she hadn’t really believed them. She stood back and snapped pictures as a ballet between men, a crane, and big sections of walls, ceiling, and roof built up a house where a plain concrete slab used to sit. The windows and exterior doors were already in place, and David checked each one. He made sure the strapping sunk into the concrete was firmly attached to the sills, and everything was plumb and square. He’d stop now and then, flash her a big smile, then get right back to work. She got tired just watching him. When the roof sections were finally in place and secure, he double-checked everything, signed off on the delivery, and stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders as the truck lumbered back up the drive. “Well, that was fun,” he said. His words stirred her hair, and she resisted the urge to lean back into him. At about four-thirty, David knocked on her trailer door. When she opened it, Orrin shouldered his way inside, went straight to where his food dish usually sat, and stared at her pointedly. “Subtle,” David muttered, throwing the dog a look. “Tomorrow we start working on manners, buddy.” Orrin looked suitably chastised for about a second and a half, then returned his deliberate, soulful stare to Charlotte. David looked at her, too, and smiled. “The ice barrier is on your roof, and I taped up any little tears your house wrap suffered during transport. Hmm, that smells good,” he added and sniffed the air. “I’ll start shingling tomorrow.” “Seems Orrin isn’t the only unsubtle one,” Charlotte drawled, stood aside, and held the door open. “Come on in. Dinner will be ready in a half hour or so.” “Great,” he said and rubbed his hands together as he stepped inside. “Thanks for the invite. Pasta?” he asked with unguarded enthusiasm. “Chicken parmesan.” She grinned. “I made enough for two.” Stripping off his shirt, he headed for her bathroom. “Beautiful, talented, rich, and generous.” It was harder to hear him after he turned on the tap. “I lucked out when you showed up in town.” “Flirt,” she muttered under her breath and started pouring kibble into Orrin’s bowl. “Damn straight,” David sung out through the open door and chuckled. Charlotte’s head came up before she grinned. There was no way he could have heard her. He was teasing, making an educated guess she’d say something in response to his audacity. The weight of

Orrin’s body trying to push her leg in at an unnatural angle took her attention away from the hunk sponging himself off on the other side of the wall. That was just depressing. When David reappeared, his face was glowing, droplets of water clung to his brow, and he was carrying his T-shirt. It was rude to ogle his naked torso, and she managed not to stare. Too much. He disappeared outside without a word. “Is an ice barrier like ice-dam shielding?” she asked when the door reopened a moment later. She had her back turned to it and was draining the noodles. “Exactly like. Which is why I covered your whole roof with it.” By now, Orrin had inhaled his food. His nails clicked on the floor as he waddled over to greet David. “The whole roof?” Turning, Charlotte watched David pick up the basket of soft breadsticks on the counter and carry them and silverware to the table. He was wearing a fresh T-shirt. “But doesn’t code require—” “Minimum code is just that,” David interrupted gently. “A minimum requirement. A poly barrier over your entire roof is far better than roofing paper. And before you ask,” he added as his brows drew together, “yes, it was in the quote and yes, you’re going to pay me for the materials.” Only after she nodded grudgingly did his forehead relax. He finished setting the table and carried the salad she’d prepared. “I made rhubarb crumble for dessert. Sorry it’s not store-bought banana cream pie.” Ouch. Not only was that way too revealing, it was also bitchy. Pinching her lips together, Charlotte wished she could take it back. “Banana…?” David look confused. “Oh. Eva.” He shifted his weight from one stocking foot to the other. “She, um, mentioned she’d dropped in on you.” “Hmm,” Charlotte murmured noncommittally. “I’ve known her since she was a kid. She’s got a crush on me.” “She’s nice enough when she’s not trying to assert her claim all over you.” David nodded ruefully. “I keep hoping she’ll meet somebody.” “What’s wrong with you?” “Me?” David laughed. “Oh hell no. She’s way too young for me.” Charlotte’s eyebrow cocked up in disbelief. “If you could see inside her head,” he said adamantly and fished out the corkscrew for the wine, “you’d know what I mean.”

She let the subject drop. “Anything happening with your building permits?” Charlotte asked when they were almost finished eating. “Nothing,” he said with a wry shake of his head. “I’ve resigned myself to taking a loss on the project this summer. Which is a real pain considering I was going to live there this winter if it didn’t sell.” “Where are you living now?” “In a motel,” he answered with a shrug. Orrin nosed around for leftover pasta, and David turned him away with a gentle nudge. “The rental cottages around here are all booked up by this time, but come fall, there’ll be plenty of vacancies.” “What about friends?” “Oh, I had invites to stay with friends, but you know how it is. You don’t want to impose that long.” “There’s a cabin on the property,” she thought out loud and almost missed the way David’s clear blue eyes lit up. “There’s no hydro or plumbing though. You probably won’t—” “I’ll take it.” “Pardon?” “I’ll take it. If you’re serious, that is.” He stood, carried their empty plates over to the sink, and rinsed them. “Hell, I’d love an opportunity to live like a pioneer.” Charlotte thought his enthusiasm would fade considerably once he saw the place. It didn’t. “Ah, home sweet home,” David sung out when she unlatched the cabin door. Following her inside, he dropped his laptop case on the cupboard, where it looked glaringly out of place. The sun was starting to set, bathing the interior in a soft, golden glow. He walked around the space but didn’t seem as intrigued by the antique accoutrements as she’d been. Charlotte found that odd. “This is terrific, Charlotte. Thanks,” he added, turning back to her. Crossing the room in two steps, he touched her face, gave her a quick kiss, and stepped outside. When he returned carrying a small duffel and emptied it into the clothes cupboard, Charlotte watched his broad back dumbly. “Um,” she said and pressed her lips together before she continued. “You’re my employee, David. Technically, you shouldn’t…” Her voice trailed away self-consciously.

“Shouldn’t what?” he prompted, closed up the cupboard, and sat down on the bed to pull off his work boots. “Kiss you? I’m not looking for a rate increase if that’s what you’re asking,” he said gently. “And I’m not looking for a discount,” she said, talking so fast her words ran over themselves. What was it about this man that made her so nervous? Oh. Yeah. He was gorgeous, built, polite, kind to her and her dog, gorgeous… “Then what’s the problem?” Those big shoulders shifted inside his T-shirt when he shrugged. He adjusted the pillow, leaned back against the headboard, and furrowed his brow. “David, I’m…I’m…” She looked down at her body despairingly. “And you’re gorgeous,” she accused him harshly. “Oh, here it comes,” he groaned and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “All right.” He crossed his arms over his chest and stretched out his long legs. “Out with it. Tell me what’s wrong with your body. What you hate,” he rhymed off. “How you wish what part was different. Go ahead.” “Are you trying to make me self-conscious?” “No, but I am trying not to get really pissed because women always think they’re not pretty enough. Or not shaped a certain way. Jeez.” He flopped down onto his back and rubbed his eyes. “Why can’t a woman just understand when a guy goes out of his way to look at her, he actually does like what he sees?” “So I suppose that’s a lead-in for me to ask you if you like what you see?” Charlotte huffed. “I don’t know, David. It seems kind of lame as far as come-ons go.” She always felt inadequate around this man, but it was a poor excuse for her to lash out at him like that. “Yeah and since when is the truth a come-on?” he snarled. Orrin whimpered and slinked into a corner. David reined in his temper with visible effort. “Okay, we’ll play,” he said evenly, sat up, and swung his stocking feet over the edge of the bed. “You start. Pick a body part. Any body part. Tell me what’s wrong with it—in your eyes,” he qualified. “And I’ll tell you what I see when I look at it.” There was a sexual dare, a challenge in his eyes. “Okay. I’ll bite.” Charlotte wondered at the sudden humor coloring his face. She hadn’t said anything funny. Anyway, going off on him like this wouldn’t do either of them any good and could probably harm their working relationship. As graciously as she could, she accepted the olive branch he was offering and considered which body part to begin with. Nothing she was really defensive or selfconscious about, of course. Her ego wasn’t up to that. She settled on something innocuous. “All right. My toes.” She slipped off her flats. “The big one turns in.” “Hmm. Okay.” David nodded. “I’ll give you that one. That’s the ugliest toe I’ve ever seen,” he said, pointing. “Repulsive. Hideous. Although the coral lacquer on your nails is pretty hot. Next?” he asked brightly and flashed her one of those patented perk-inducing grins of his.

He might have turned this into a game, but she sensed his sincerity. It calmed and encouraged her. “My…my ass.” “And what’s wrong with it?” David blurted out. He said it like he thought her bubble-butt was perfect. “Oh come on, David. It’s too big. It’s…” “All right, all right,” he said when her protest faded, and stood up. “Let me take a look here.” “David.” She should have seen that coming. Maybe she had. “Well, I have to, don’t I? If we’re going to play honestly.” Circling her slowly, he laid his hands on her shoulders, let them skirt her waist, the top of her hips. Standing behind her, he ran his hands down her outer thighs. Trembling, Charlotte found it hard to catch her breath. When he wrapped his fingers around her pelvis, he stood close behind her. His groin brushed her ass. “It’s shaped like a woman’s ass should be. And stop shaking your head, Charlotte,” he growled. Leaning down, he settled his cheek next to hers and brushed his lips over her jaw. “You’ve had your say. Now it’s my turn.” He gave her hips a light squeeze and again ran his hands over her thighs. “Your thinking is skewed by the current, popular concept of beauty. Like women’s always has been. A woman’s not supposed to be shaped like a man—no hips and a hard ass.” Enthralled by his sensuality, Charlotte swayed lightly. Or maybe it was a lack of oxygen because she wasn’t breathing so well right now. David continued. “Man and woman are built to complement each other. Those differences should be embraced, not artificially altered.” His words were emphatic, and then his voice softened, became more intimate in the small space. “A woman should be round. Soft.” Work-roughened hands ran over her, and he moved his lips over her jaw again. His breath washed her throat, her chest. “Not only is it sexy as hell,” he murmured, “an ass like yours is designed to cushion you. Protect your more…delicate parts from a man’s hard ones. Cushion and yield to his strength, which enhances a man’s pleasure tenfold when he takes you during an amorous…joining.” “Hmmph,” Charlotte huffed. Her detachment was feigned. One look at her hard nipples and the gooseflesh covering her arms would tell him that. “You sure you shouldn’t be a writer instead of a contractor?” Gathering what composure she had left, she stepped forward and out of his grasp. “All right. And quit fondling my ass. You’ve made your point.” Behind her, David chuckled quietly. She swore he could smell her blushing.

“So go on,” he encouraged. “Oh, come on, Charlotte,” he protested when she turned around and glared up at him. “We’ve just started playing. Name something else you don’t like.” “David, I can see where this is heading, and I don’t—” “But I do,” he interrupted quietly. “So humor me. Go on. I’m waiting.” His eyes tracked her every movement as he returned to lounging back on the bed. Still grinning happily, he looked at her body, and then something almost…predatory slid into his expression. “All right,” she gave in with a huff and kicked herself mentally even before the words were out. “My boobs.” “Your boobs? Are you insane?” He held up his hand. “All right, sorry. It just came out.” Frowning, he added, “So tell me what you don’t like about them.” “Oh, for heaven’s sake, David. They’re too small. And they’re shaped like…well, they should be round, and mine are—” “Yours are beyond perfection, Charlotte.” Suddenly, he was standing in front of her. When had he moved? Blinking, Charlotte blamed the setting sun and the odd golden cast to the light. His hands were on her ribs. His thumbs caressed the bottom swell of her breasts. “I’ve seen some breasts in my time, and yours…” He looked down at them deliberately. Hunger brightened his eyes. “Yours are shaped for a man’s pleasure.” David’s palms moved over the edges of her breasts. “They fit my hands perfectly. Not too small. Not too big. Perfectly round is hard,” he added matter-of-factly, “and the result of artificial enhancement and air-brushing in advertising. Hmm. Real breasts should be soft and hang from your chest like ripe pears.” Brushing his body against hers, he dipped his head and kissed her throat. When he cupped her breast in one hand, her ass in the other, Charlotte trembled and leaned into him. “They’re full, like your very kissable mouth.” When he stared at her, Charlotte parted her lips in anticipation. “Pouting is a good adjective,” he continued in a soft, seductive, teasing whisper. “I’ve always loved breasts that are shaped like they’re pouting. Like they’re disappointed I’m not touching them.” He squeezed her breast gently. “With my hands. My mouth.” Charlotte became aware he was maneuvering her, turning her, backing her up toward the bed. He tipped her down onto it, drew up her shirt and bra in a single, smooth movement, and kissed her sternum. Inhaling sharply, she threaded her fingers into his hair and held him to her. Nibbling a path across her body, he cupped a breast and suckled it. Lying half on her, his thigh between hers, his torso felt heavy on her mound.

“When I lie on a woman,” David pressed, lifting his mouth from her and kissing his way over to her other nipple, “I want to feel her softness yielding to me. I don’t want a bag of bones poking me. I want to be the one doing the poking.” Tipping his head up, he grinned and moved his hips so his erection rubbed her thigh. “When a man’s hard, he doesn’t want to rub up against something hard. Unless he’s gay, of course,” he added with a quirky smile. “But that’s his loss.” “All right, David,” Charlotte gasped, trying to regain some control, wondering why on earth for. “You’ve made your, er, point,” she added when his cock nuzzled her leg. She sighed, relaxed into the surprisingly comfortable mattress, and let herself accept the really great things his hands and mouth were doing to her breasts. She made an ineffectual effort to brush his hands away when he moved down to her belly, not noticing at first he was undoing her shorts. Her protests melted when he stuck his hand in her panties and stroked her slit. After that, it came as no surprise to her when she lifted her hips in a helpful gesture and let him tug her shorts and underwear down and off. Shouldn’t she be saying no about now? He was too young for her, too good-looking, and his wannabe girlfriend would probably turn out to be a she-wolf in tight clothing. Charlotte’s taste in men had always sucked…take her ex for example. Why should David be any different? He kissed her mound, the tops of her thighs, made a sound of open appreciation, and gave her body a yank and a spin so her butt was half hanging off the edge of the mattress, her thighs were over his shoulders, and his fingertips were combing the hair on her mons. When had he got off the bed to kneel beside it? “Oh,” Charlotte gasped and shook her head. She really should concentrate more on breathing if she wanted to stay conscious and enjoy this. There was something sublimely erotic about being exposed and laid out in offering to a man who was fully clothed. The shirt and bra bunched up under her chin made her acutely aware of her nakedness. Her calves slid against the soft cotton on his back. Stuff this good didn’t happen in real life— not to women like her anyway. Oh, what the hell. It was about time she got laid. What was a one-time casual booty-call between employer and employee anyway? His cheeks were smooth when they nuzzled her thighs. Long fingers grazed her pussy, and he murmured his approval when the mouth of her sheath got wet. “Very nice,” he murmured and pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to her. When his tongue speared her, he murmured again, louder and happier than the first time, and licked her cleft. Easing her lips open, he blew on her…a slow, deliberate exhalation from mound to anus and back. Charlotte quivered and grasped her breasts to ease the ache in them.

“Very nice,” he repeated and when she looked down, David was looking up from between her legs. His gaze was fixed on her breasts, a blatantly lecherous grin lifted one corner of his mouth, and his eyes flashed before glazing over, just a little. “Do it again. Let me watch,” he said in a low, commanding growl. He growled again when she squeezed her breasts, ran her fingertips over her nipples. Still watching, he dragged the rough surface of his tongue across her clit like a cat drinking cream. He licked her again and again. “Oh…damn,” she sighed, tightened her legs to draw him closer, and squeezed her nipples until she groaned. When he slid a finger into her and turned his wrist slowly, she grinned, let go of her swollen breasts, and threaded her fingers into David’s soft, pale hair. For some reason she chuckled, then laughed as she rolled lightly, experimenting with different angles, offering up one tiny, perfect spot after another for him to lavish his considerable talents on. It had been so long. Too long. Certainly never this good. Trying to relax and let the feelings build, Charlotte sprawled across his bed and let her knees fall completely open. Her trust was rewarded when a second finger joined the first and his tongue began a deliberate side-to-side flick. Her back arched off the mattress before settling down slowly. The eroticism was delicious, and she grinned and squirmed. When a third finger circled her anus and brushed it impudently, she sighed. “Nice variation on a classic,” she whispered and trembled when her pussy spasmed and clutched the fingers inside her. “My pleasure,” David whispered against her wetness and shook his head violently to enhance the feel of his tongue on her. For an instant, it was too intense, and Charlotte tried to roll away. He held her with a strength as controlled as it was startling. Fear traced through her and lifted her head. Some untapped intuition told her there was something about this man…something a part of her repressed, civilized psyche recoiled from. He was a stranger, strong, fast, but there was more. Something elusive. Something that faded like a wisp of smoke when David’s eyes met hers. They were gentle, the kind of eyes that let her trust him. The blue caught and refracted the fading daylight in shades of warmth, overlaid with tenderness. “Who are you, David Hadfield?” she whispered. He licked her softly, filled her pussy with slow, gentle thrusts that started in his forearm, and looked up at her like she was the most beautiful, primal creature on the face of the earth. “For now, I’m your lover. And you’re mine. That’s okay, isn’t it.” There was no question in his voice, just a quiet statement of fact.

She held her breath for what felt like a long time, then exhaled slowly, purging the nonsense in her head. “That feels good,” she whispered. She’d deliberately changed the subject because what was in her head was too fantastical to examine. Instead, she combed his hair off his forehead, turned back the fear that had made her tense up. She didn’t want him to see it. Didn’t want to repay his loving in that way. His eyes smiled back at her, and he swirled his tongue over her clit without pause. “Yeah. Oh yeah,” Charlotte gasped and arched into him. What had been too intense a moment ago was now devastating, delicious. She clutched the soft quilt beneath her, squeezed her breasts with more enthusiasm than discretion, and found she liked it. Like he was feeding off her arousal, the flick of David’s tongue got faster, harder. He reached deeper inside her and the lone, third finger resumed its patient track around her sensitive anus, stroking, pressing without breaching. “Tease,” she murmured. He simply nodded, allowing the flat of his tongue to lave her before settling back into that swipe, grind, and flick motion that made her want to grab his ears and ride. The finish, however, seemed curiously elusive. A fist of sensation squeezed Charlotte’s belly, released, and squeezed again. Forerunners of ecstasy licked her breasts, tightened her chest, ramped back just enough to make her shiver and groan. She wasn’t frustrated, far from it. She’d never felt so alive, so intensely sensual as she hovered on the edge of orgasm, then inched back from it. Her arousal grew, and it felt like David was shaping it, controlling it, directing it. But as the quiet, aching minutes passed, arousal became want, want became need, need turned into desperation. “Please, David,” she begged. “Please.” He growled. At least it sounded like a growl. A deep, primitive sound came from his chest, and he dug his free hand into her hip, shoved his fingers into her hard and deep, and lashed her clit mercilessly. Crying out, arching and thrashing but constrained by his shocking strength, Charlotte gave herself over to waves of orgasm. Pressure and delight gripped her, twisted her, rolled aside to make way for more. The intensity of David’s loving never faltered. Neither did his power. Finally, sated and wet all over, Charlotte gasped, felt one final shudder of ecstasy hold her in thrall, before flopping back and shivering. Only then did his touch gentle. The gun-fire swipes of his tongue slowed until he was nuzzling more than licking. He eased his fingers out of her and straightened just enough so she could watch him suck her juice off his hand. Watch the sensual progress of his tongue as it chased a trail of cream down his wrist. She swallowed, hard, and let her head drop back.

Chapter Five

Charlotte lay on David’s big bed. Her discarded shorts and underwear were scattered on the floor, and she was wearing her big, gauzy shirt. It was open, barely covered her breasts, and left her pussy exposed when her raised knee drifted from side to side. She watched him take two antique lamps off the cupboard, check the liquid fuel inside the glass bases, adjust the wicks, and light them with a wooden match. She hadn’t noticed the lamps before. “How did you know they were there?” David’s hand hesitated before he lifted it to blow out the match he was still holding. “I saw them.” He grinned down at her. “I’m taller. I probably see a lot of things you can’t, short stuff.” The tease in his eyes was unmistakable. “Maybe. So why did you assume the gas or whatever’s inside them was stable and wouldn’t blow up when you lit it?” He was still grinning, but now it looked strained. “You caught me. I’m an antique junkie. I love these old lamps, own a dozen or more. Do you really want to talk about this when you’re lying there looking so beautiful and sultry?” He set one lamp on the table, the other on the chest beside the bed, adjusted his arousal through his jeans, and lay beside her. Charlotte let the conversation go. She didn’t protest when he stretched out on his back and pulled her to him until she was pressed snug into his side and her limbs were wrapped around him. Despite what had to be an uncomfortable hard-on, he looked remarkably content. “Um, David,” she whispered, “we didn’t, um, we didn’t talk about what or if we were going to anything about your, um…” Her voice faded when she realized he’d caught her staring at his crotch. She blushed.

Grinning, he stroked himself and stretched out again. “You’re a lot more candid when you write sex scenes, you know. Anyway,” he sighed and folded his arms around her, “can’t a man find pleasure in satisfying a woman? Especially one he thinks is beautiful, smart, sexy.” Levering himself up in a smooth, controlled movement that would do any ab-exercise machine proud, he nuzzled her breasts, then lay back down. “Why should it be about me?” There was nothing self-conscious or discreet about the movement of his hand when he adjusted himself, again. “This is a temporary discomfort. The pleasure of seeing your face,” he sighed, “tasting you, hearing those soft noises you make when you come. That’ll stay with me forever, Charlotte.” She sat up and slapped his chest. Not hard but hard enough to make her point. “You’re obscenely perfect, you know that? Urgh.” David laughed. “Are you distressed I am still sexually aroused and you are not?” “Well…yes. I suppose I am.” “How very modern of you, Charlotte,” he complimented her. “Well, we could continue to play our game. If you wish. This time I’ll pick a body part of mine I don’t like. And you can tell me what you like about it. Hmm?” She shot him a look that was half tease, half censure. “Oh, and I suppose you’re going to start with your cock. So I can ewh and awh. Tell you how magnificent it is. How big. The most magnificent dick in the world,” she crowed. “Hmm?” One of David’s brows lifted. “I’m hardly that shallow, Charlotte. Or that obvious for that matter.” They chuckled together. “Shall we play?” he pressed. “Well, I have to be honest with you. The idea of sex with you turns me on. You’re hot as hell, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex. I’ve got no birth control. No condoms. The last time I was tested for STDs was during my divorce when I wasn’t sure my dirtbag of a husband hadn’t been cheating on me.” “Was he?” “Was he what? A dirtbag? Or cheating?” “Either,” David answered with a tone that said he wasn’t kidding around anymore. “A dirtbag, yes. Cheating, no,” she admitted wearily. “He left because he got tired of me. Got tired of the life we were living. He disliked being with me so much he didn’t even need the lure of another woman to pull his scrawny ass out the door.”

“Hmm,” David breathed. “A dirtbag and scrawny. Next to that, I suppose I am obscenely perfect, aren’t I?” He tightened his hold on her, kissed her forehead, and lay back. “It’s settled.” With no obvious effort, he disengaged himself from her and stood beside the bed. “We’ll begin. And I promise we won’t finish with my cock inside your delightfully wet, tight cunt. This time,” he promised with a wicked grin. Turning slowly, he looked down at himself thoughtfully. With Charlotte’s eyes glued to his body, he pulled off his socks, his T-shirt. His hands moved slowly over his body. Intrigued, she sat up and got turned on as she watched. She sensed a distinct sexual gleam in her eye. “My ear,” he said, tugging on the lobe. “What on earth’s wrong with your ear?” she cried in astonishment. “That’s a perfect ear, David.” “No it isn’t, my beauty. It’s too big.” Getting into the spirit of the game, Charlotte grinned, stood up on the bed, and motioned him forward. When he stepped up to her, she put her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled his ear. Her tongue traced it with a slow, sensual sweep, and he shivered. She leaned her body into his when he slid his hands under her shirt. He hugged her, caressed her back, arched into the naked warmth of her breasts. His skin felt so good against hers. “Maybe. All right,” she conceded. “It’s too big for your head. But only a little. I don’t expect you to take off in uncontrolled flight during a windstorm, but it is big enough to fire a girl’s imagination.” “Your imagination?” David prompted. “Well, yours, my beautiful Charlotte, is lusty enough I’d kill to see it fired up.” They chuckled. “Please, continue,” he urged. “The words and the incredible things your tongue is doing.” “Yes,” she whispered in his ear, “big enough to get a girl thinking about whether other parts of your anatomy are big.” “Tease. Did I mention I like to be teased? Shall we keep playing?” “Definitely.” “Hmm…” He turned slowly in her arms. “There’s a problem with my, um, shoulder blade.” David had tried not to look too satisfied when he saw the lust in Charlotte’s lovely, heavy-lidded eyes. Obligingly, she kissed his shoulder blade, dragged her tongue across it. He shivered when she drew her fingernails down the sides of his body. Her small, soft breasts nuzzled his back. “And I have a nasty scar.” Turning to face her, he reached for his belt, undid it slowly, then started unfastening the buttons on his jeans, drawing out the show when Charlotte licked her lips, stroked her thighs, and stared. “I’m terribly self-conscious about it,” he purred. Only about half the

buttons were undone when she stepped off the bed, pushed his hands aside, and started unfastening his pants herself. She seemed to be enjoying the task if her smile was any indication. Grunting when his cock sprung free, David stepped out of his jeans after they were roughly pushed down. He liked the way she smiled when she saw he wasn’t wearing underwear. After he kicked his pants aside, her eyes lit up when he ran a hand over his abdomen, fisted his cock, and gave the head a quick, rough squeeze. “On my thigh, Charlotte,” he taunted. “The scar? It’s a little further south than your current line of sight.” She grinned, not rising to the tease in his voice, and stroked his leg. David’s smile faded when pain dimmed the pleasure on his lover’s face. The scar was ancient, a memento of a careless moment from his childhood while chopping firewood. Three inches high and ragged from the primitive dressings that had been applied at the time and the ravages of infection, it was no longer terrible in his eyes. Charlotte obviously saw it differently, and his cold heart warmed at the compassion coloring her expression. His mouth dried when she looked back up at his cock, obviously putting their game aside, dropped to her knees, eased his foreskin back, and took the head of his rod into her mouth. “Ah, Charlotte,” he hissed as his hips rocked forward. He planted his feet far apart, letting his groin drop lower to the ground to make it easier for her to reach. Grinning drunkenly when she looked up at him, he watched her wrap her small, warm hand around the shaft and slide her lips down as far as she could. She sucked on him gently, swirled her tongue around the sensitive tip, probed the opening until his head dropped back and he groaned. Weaving his fingers into her tousled brown hair, he encouraged her efforts. Charlotte didn’t disappoint. Her hand moved slowly, but her grip was sure. Easing his skin up and down, she soon had his hips rocking in time with her movements. Her eyes still on his, adjusting her actions according to his reactions, she swirled her tongue around his cock, hollowed her cheeks as she sucked, then swallowed him up and let her head bob up and down. Damn. That dirtbag ex-husband of hers had to be a cretin to let a woman like this get away. She lowered her head so she could tongue his balls. David moaned, then grinned crookedly. “Keep that up, woman, and I won’t last.” She didn’t stop. If anything, the fire in her eyes got brighter, and she palmed his sack while she worked his cock. He gave her the freedom of his body. Let her touch him any way she wanted. Loved her inhibition and generosity when she tightened her grip just so in response to the rumbling in his chest and the rocking of his hips. A tingling built in his balls, and he trembled. “Now,” he breathed. “Charlotte, baby, please. Now.” With a grunt, he lurched his pelvis forward. Fisting her hair tighter than he should, David let himself come, loving her for not pulling away when he did. Shards of ecstasy, sharp and hard as iron, pierced his groin, rocked it into her, hurt almost as much as it enthralled. The choked cry he heard was

his own. His shoulders punched forward and every muscle in his body tensed. Coming hadn’t felt this good in a long time. He rose up on his toes, and they tried to curl at the same time. If he hadn’t been immortal, it would have hurt like hell. As it was, the pain focused and intensified his pleasure. He grunted again and when his eyes opened, he stared in adoration at the way Charlotte’s cheeks worked as she swallowed his seed, the lust in her eyes as she watched him come. “Fuck,” he hissed and doubled over. He caught the edge of the bed in time to keep from falling on her. Hanging there with her wicked, warm tongue playing over his length, David gasped, grinned, and shook his head to clear it. He groaned when she dug her fingers into his ass, pulled his softening cock deep into her mouth, and nuzzled his pubes with her nose. Her breath was warm, intimate, and only with the greatest regret did he finally ease his rod out of her mouth. The pleasure had become too intense for his sated body to handle. He dropped down onto the bed, rolled onto his back, and wondered if he’d ever be able to stand up again. Charlotte lay down beside him, snuggled into the coolness of his body, and licked her lips with an exaggerated sound. “You’re going to kill me,” he groused but found enough strength to fold his arms around her and hold her tight. As the minutes ticked past, his head cleared. Strength returned to his limbs. David stared up at the same ceiling he’d slept beneath for almost a century and a half. Caressing Charlotte’s arm, he absorbed her warmth. She was so soft, her heartbeat strong, vibrant. The richness of the blood moving through her veins called to him. Even lying on his back, he felt his shoulders wilt, just a little, and he started rubbing the corners of his eyes with forefinger and thumb. Giving in to the need, the hunger in him, he rolled Charlotte onto her back, cupped her breasts, and slid his mouth over the soft rise of her belly. She was so sweet, so alive. Her scent called to him, and he dipped his head between her legs, stretched out his tongue, and nudged her clit until she gasped and arched into him. David held her tight, roused her quickly. He sucked the little bundle of nerves and the surrounding skin into his mouth, worked it with his tongue, and eased one, two, then three fingers inside her. Her excitement rose quickly, testimony to how much pleasure she’d taken from pleasuring him. That satisfied him more than he would have imagined. When her back arched, when she murmured naughty words of encouragement, he flicked his tongue against her clit madly. Soon, it became more about his need than her pleasure, and he forced arousal on her with brutal efficiency. Charlotte was shaking. Her body jerked when she lifted her hips and mashed her pussy into his mouth. He didn’t care. His neck bore the strain without effort, and he feasted on the scent of lust seeping out of her pores. When she gasped one last time, when her thighs trembled and her muscles tightened, he lashed her with his tongue. As she cried out, her pussy convulsed around his fingers. Just as the pulses faded, he slid his mouth away from her, thrust his hand against her hard, and let his eyes roll back in their sockets as his canines descended. His gums ached, and he felt a dry grinding in his jaw. He pierced her quickly. High inside her leg, just below her pussy, he broke through skin until his tuned senses told him he’d touched a capillary. He nicked it, let the blood wick into his mouth, and swallowed. The blood

vessel was small and would clot soon. No matter. He only needed a few sips. Like it always did, the act of feeding ratcheted his donor’s pleasure. David wanted to believe it was different for Charlotte. More. That it wasn’t just his pheromones or whatever the hell it was that brought women this ecstasy. She came again, humping his hand for all she was worth and crying out. Her nipples swelled, darkened, and he could hear the blood pounding through the fine network of vessels that engorged them. Gently, so she wouldn’t feel what he was doing, he sucked again, relished the taste of this lover’s blood like he’d relished no one’s in centuries, swallowed, then licked the tiny punctures until they sealed. By the time Charlotte gasped and lifted her head to look down at him, he was grinning up at her—despite the languid trailing of his tongue across her clit. After her breathing slowed and the sweat drying on her body cooled her, he helped her to dress and, her hand in his, walked her and Orrin to her trailer. “I’m taking you home before I give in to myself and sink my cock into your sweet cunt,” he whispered in her ear, kissed her, and held her tight enough her soft breasts compressed beneath his chest. Taking her keys from her, he unlocked the door, opened it, and stood aside. “I’m, um, going down to Toronto tomorrow morning.” Uncomplicated, male vanity swelled inside him when he heard the unsteadiness in her voice, a product of the pleasure hangover he’d given her. “I’m being interviewed on CBC Radio. I could do it over the phone, but I want to go shopping.” He stroked her hair, let her babble, loved the softness in her eyes, kissed her once more, then closed the outer door after she and Orrin stepped inside. “Good night, Charlotte,” he said quietly, talking to her through the screen. “Sleep well.” He grinned. “You’re going to make me fall in love with you if you keep looking at me like that.” With that, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.

****

When she got home the next day, it was late and the sun had set a few hours earlier. The exterior light on her trailer was on and when she saw it, Charlotte grinned. She hadn’t left it on. David must have done it when he dropped by to pick up Orrin. His thoughtfulness was a far cry from her husband’s.

Len had surprised her by taking a few hours off work that afternoon to help her with the desk so she wouldn’t have to pay a mover. That was very considerate of him, but he did it with an expectancy of praise and an air of stiffness, like being selfless was a skill he wasn’t used to. It didn’t reflect well on her, but she wasn’t ready to trust this new, psychoanalyzed Len. They’d gone out for coffee after. He’d told her work was going all right—he was a logistics manager for a hydraulics manufacturer. She’d told him about her latest argument with her agent and the huge laugh they’d had when they made up about an hour later. Nothing there had changed. She told Len she was seeing someone. Was engaging in oral sex considered seeing someone? Did she want to trail after David like a deluded wannabe cougar? Either way, she didn’t go into details. Len had been surprised but not in an insulting way, which was a first for him. Maybe disappointed was a better word. That was truly weird. The whole meeting was…stiff. The only thing saving it from disaster was the accepted familiarity of history. They knew each other well, and Len was obviously trying. Grabbing packages out of the backseat, she made it to the door and was fumbling with her keys when a big, strong hand tugged the ring out of her fingers. She grimaced when her yellow lab leaned his full and considerable weight into her shin. Packages were lifted from her hands at the same time David’s mouth came down on hers. She didn’t know how he did it, but he managed to maneuver her, the dog, and the packages inside, toe the door shut, back her into a recliner, yank off the pants to her sensible suit, tug her panties aside, and bury his face between her legs in about a second and a half. “Wow,” she breathed. Then gasped. “You’re good.” He draped her leg over one of the arms on the recliner, tipped the whole thing back, pulled her ass forward, and kneeled in front of her. His only answer to her compliment was to spread her folds with his thumbs and tease her pussy with the tip of his tongue. “So, so good.” Charlotte felt like a victim of commando cunnilingus. There was a fervor, an intensity in David’s touch that hadn’t been there yesterday. She felt like he needed her, needed this. Grinning, she leaned back and let him take what he wanted. His wicked, talented tongue moved up, down, flicked side to side. Long, thick fingers pet her nether lips before pushing inside. He turned his wrist so he could stroke the front of her sheath, and her body squeezed down on him, hard. “Damn, you’ve got some muscle control, woman.” His voice was muffled and wet. “Can’t wait to feel all this sweetness milking my cock.” Despite his ribald words, he resumed strumming her clit. She touched his hair. It smelled freshly washed. She touched his shoulder, leaned back, and sighed with pleasure. “Hmm. Yes, there,” she encouraged him and tipped her hips up.

David chuckled, and the vibration from his lips made her gasp and rock forward. A big hand between her breasts eased her back. He withdrew his tongue, pursed his lips, and blew a long, wet raspberry on her clit. Crying out, Charlotte shook all over. Her spine arched until she was sure she’d pop a vertebra. Holding her tight, David inhaled, and that was the only warning she got before his buzzing lips were on her again. She twisted, groaned, closed her eyes against the blinding white light behind them, and came. When her orgasm hit, she couldn’t think. Sensations of warmth, grabbing, and twisting, the pulse of release deep in her belly, the spasms in her pussy as it clamped onto David’s fingers filled her consciousness. When she could think, she winced. It felt like she’d held a muscle too tight, too long. The quick stab of pain just beside the tendon inside her upper thigh was suddenly gone. She came again and groaned in astonishment. She’d never been a multiple-O kind of gal, but who was she to question her sudden good fortune. Or the skills of the man giving them to her. Grabbing onto David’s head and holding on for the ride, she ground her pussy into his face, cried out, arched, throbbed, and trembled as sweat broke out over every inch of her. When everything faded, she sank back into the chair in a wet puddle of sated mush. She groaned and tried to push his face away when David kissed her mound and trailed his tongue over her slit. “No more,” she groaned and pushed again. If she hadn’t been so satisfied, she probably would have wanted to slap the smug look off his face. But then again, maybe not. He licked his lips with open pleasure, drew the back of his hand across his chin, kissed her knees, and stood up. On his way to the door, he adjusted his arousal. “I’ve got—” she started to say, waving vaguely in the direction of the drugstore bag that contained, amongst other things, the biggest box of lubricated condoms she’d been able to find. David turned, smiled down at her like a fallen angel, and, slowly, backed toward the door. “No, sweetheart. I am content.” He licked his lips again, and his eyes warmed and darkened. “Please forgive me for jumping on you like that. I’m sorry…I missed you. Your body.” He spread his hands helplessly. “All day I thought of nothing else. The laminate on your laundry-room counter is a wreck,” he admitted baldly. “I’ll buy you a replacement.” When she returned his smile, he relaxed visibly. “You gave me what I’ve been dreaming about all day. Good night.” He gave her a last, intense look and left. Blinking at the closed door, Charlotte flopped back in the chair and exhaled loudly. Orrin padded up to her, shoved his head under her hand, and moved away only after he’d received sufficient petting. “I’ve fallen into a dream, Orrin.” Her dog lifted his head, watched her hoist up her pants and shuffle off to bed.

The next morning, Charlotte got up earlier than usual. It was so early Orrin simply grunted from his side of the bed when the mattress shifted under her weight, fluttered his lips, and fell back asleep. She was exhausted, but that didn’t seem to matter. Filled with an excited, jittery energy, she threw together a batch of muffins before jumping in the shower. She wanted to surprise David with breakfast, and maybe that big box of condoms she’d bought. Grinning, Charlotte stroked her mound, worked lather into her sparse curls, paused when she felt two tiny bumps on her inner leg. She touched them again. They didn’t hurt, and she thought they might be whisker burn, then realized she’d never seen David with so much as a five o’clock shadow. She smeared soap over them and rethought her seduction plans. The idea of sex with her contractor still thrilled the hell out of her, but thinking about lying beneath his much bigger, much stronger body, being so vulnerable, was suddenly…unnerving. She touched the bumps on her leg again. Maybe it would be better if she slowed things down. What did she really know about him anyway? A little while later, she was carrying a small box of muffins and fresh fruit to David’s cabin. The condoms were still sitting on her closet shelf. A big Buick was parked behind his pickup, and she paused. It was the kind of land yacht you sometimes saw floating down the highway, not new but in good repair. Deciding to head back to her trailer and call David’s cell before interrupting whatever early morning meeting he had going on, Charlotte whispered to Orrin to come. Too late. The lab was already scratching at David’s door. She tried shooing him away, but Orrin got up on his hind legs. Unfortunately, the latch obviously hadn’t caught and the door swung open under his weight. “Sorry,” Charlotte called out frantically. “Orrin, come,” she said with rising panic. “I’m sorry. The dog…” Her voice dried up. Inside, David, wearing jeans and nothing else, was lying on the bed next to a woman. He grabbed at the sheets to cover her nakedness. She was seventy-five if she was a day. Blood was smeared on one of her breasts and on David’s mouth. The rising sun glinted off his sharp, unnaturally long canines. Charlotte dropped the box and ran. She could move pretty fast when she had to, but even before she reached the edge of the clearing, David was standing in front of her. Wearing jeans and socks, he was suddenly standing in front of her like he’d been teleported there. Holding out his hands, he begged, “Please, Charlotte. Let me—” “Get away,” she yelled and kicked his shin when he wrapped his hands around her arms. “I’ll call the police.” She shrieked again when she spotted the remnant of a blood smear beneath his lower lip. “I can explain if you’ll just listen. If you’ll just calm down.” “Calm down? Let go of me, you psycho.” The only thing jerking against his grip accomplished was bruising her arms.

“David.” It was the woman from the cabin. She was standing in the doorway, buttoning up her blouse and pushing her styled, silver hair back. “You mean you haven’t told her?” she snapped at him, and then her tone softened. “Oh, David. What’s the matter with you? Look how upset the poor woman is.” She reached back into the cabin, picked up a handbag, and headed for the big Buick. “If it’s any consolation, dear,” she called out in Charlotte’s direction as she fished a set of keys out of her bag, “David told me this would be the last time. But he needed to eat and the first Tuesday of the month is my day.” With that enigma hanging in her wake, she got in her car. It started up with a dignified yet thundery rumble. She drove away. In shock, Charlotte stared up at the man holding her arms. “I’m supposed to believe you’re a vampire?” she whispered harshly, like saying it too loud would make it real. “A genuine, honest-togoodness, blood-sucking, virgin-defiling…old-lady-boinking vampire?” A sudden jerk and twist pulled her from his grasp, although, with a sinking stomach, she realized it wasn’t her strength but his willingness to let her go that had freed her. She ran back the way she’d come. Orrin spronked along with her, clearly enjoying this new game. Vampire? A real vampire? No. That wasn’t possible. The guy was a kink, a Goth pervert, plain and simple. The only thing that kept Charlotte sane and focused was the feel of her keys in the pocket of her shorts. The keys to her trailer…and her SUV. The path curved, and David was standing there, just to one side, waiting like he’d flown there. She ran past him as fast as she could. When she reached her vehicle, he was already there, standing in front of the bumper, watching her, not even breathing hard. The sharp angle of the sun highlighted every sinuous ripple of muscle on his torso. His hair shone like ripe wheat. The light in eyes was intense. His eyes also reflected a fear that turned his face into a stranger’s. Giving up on the SUV, she ran down to the lake, through the piles of construction supplies, and shoved a key into the front door of her house. Orrin raced in after her, and she slammed and locked the door, before backing away from it slowly. “Okay,” she gulped, trying to catch her breath and failing. “Bad move. Locked in a house with crazy guy outside. Not good.” Running her fingers through her hair, she spun, looking around frantically. “Crazy guy also has keys. So not good,” she gasped and sprinted for the front door. The deck wasn’t built, and it was at least a four-foot drop to the ground. Maybe if she jumped down first and grabbed Orrin… “Boo.” Screaming, Charlotte fell flat on her ass, onto the unfinished subfloor. For one insane second, David’s face had filled her field of vision—his upside-down face. Looking up, she screamed again. David was hanging upside down, feet on the ceiling, grinning down at her.

“Sorry,” he said and cleared his throat. “That was uncalled for.” Shaking all over, she watched him walk across the ceiling, then down a wall. His socks left dirty, smudged impressions on the drywall. The reality of them made hysterical laughter bubble in her throat. She barely reined it in. Stopping in front of her, he bent down and held out his hand. “Here, let me help—” “Don’t touch me,” Charlotte yelled, scurrying away and jumping to her feet. “Don’t touch the dog,” she barked when Orrin trotted up to him, tail wagging. “Don’t even look at him.” Planting her body between the dog and David, Charlotte jabbed a finger into his bare chest. “You do and I’ll chop off your head, set fire to your intestines, and stick a landscaping spike through that…that magnificent chest of yours.” Her voice trailed off when David took her hand in his, held it gently, and rubbed his thumb over her palm. It was all so surreal, and she would have enjoyed the irony if she was reading it, not living it. She was terrified yet too incredulous to hang on to that or any one emotion for more than a few seconds. It was easier when she concentrated on the way he held her hand, how he caressed it, stroked it. His fingers felt warm, yet they couldn’t be. Could they? “Jeez, David,” she barked, “what’s going on? And who the hell was that woman you were fucking?” she snarled in what was probably an imprudent flash of jealousy, given the circumstances. He sighed. “We weren’t fucking. She and I haven’t fucked in at least five years,” he explained with an uncomfortable shrug. “Her bones are getting brittle, and her GP said she should avoid highimpact exercise.” “Oh, that’s it,” Charlotte barked and yanked her hand out of his. “I’m calling the police.” “And tell them what, precisely?” David yelled back. It was the first time he’d ever raised his voice to her. “That your lover’s a vampire? That he cheated on you with a seventy-six-year-old?” Folding his arms over his chest, he looked away, but not before she saw the anguish on his face. “At least your husband never cheated on you,” he said quietly. Walking over to the big front window, he leaned against the frame and looked out over the lake. “The first time I fed from her was the summer she turned sixteen.” His voice echoed softly through the unfinished structure. “The war in Europe had just ended. I’m not a defiler of virgins,” he said and glanced back at Charlotte before looking back outside. “But I have deflowered a few in my day.” “David, the inside of my thigh…” “Yes. I bit you.” He sounded sad, maybe guilty. “I fed off you while you were having an orgasm. That’s all my kind lives for—sex and blood.” He shook his head ruefully. “Am I…infected?”

“No,” he answered quickly and turned back to her. “No, you’d have to drink my blood, too.” Gently, he ran his fingers up and down her arm. “And die, of course.” “Of course,” Charlotte parroted with flat, scared humor and looked around her dream house. She started pacing. “Look, David,” she said, sounding more rational with every word, “you can’t be a vampire. You’re my contractor, for crying out loud,” she added in a harsher tone, like volume would cancel out the insanity of what they were discussing. “Besides, I’ve read Bram Stoker. I write about vampires, for heaven’s sake.” “Yes and both you and he have a lot of the facts wrong. Look, Abraham met Vladimir in England. Abraham knew what he was. They liked to go out drinking together after the theater. One night, or so Vladimir told me, they stayed up drinking, talking, and making up stories. Building on each other’s ideas. By the morning, they had raging hangovers, but they’d also concocted the plot of a book that—” “Vladimir?” she interrupted incredulously. “Count Dracula?” “Well, Drakoolia, actually. Although my Romanian pronunciation has always been poor.” “You mean he was real? He was a real person?” “Is. Is a real person,” David corrected. “He lives in New Jersey. He likes the way they tawk,” David added with a grin, obviously trying out his best Jersey accent. Charlotte gave him a hard look. “No. I’m not buying this. Any of it.” She started pacing again, this time with her hands in the air. “Bram Stoker was a sexually repressed Victorian who wrote a sexually titillating horror story that, admittedly, was really, really good. But it’s just a story, David. You can’t expect me to believe you can turn into mist, or you devour babies.” He rubbed his eyes. “Mist, no. Babies, definitely no. But I can defy gravity when I choose.” His voice was so void of emotion that, for an insane moment, Charlotte wanted to comfort him. David continued. “And, yes, I do need to consume blood to stay healthy.” “So what am I to you? Your next meal?” “No, Charlotte,” he answered vehemently. “You’re…you’re so much more. This community and I, we have a symbiotic relationship. We have for over a century. I…I protect them. There are dangerous people out there, Charlotte. Thieves. Drunks who won’t stay out from behind the wheel of a car. Rapists. Murderers. I can step in and act before law enforcement can.” “You’re a vigilante.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Yeah. I’ve been called that. Truth is, having an outlet for my bloodlust keeps me civilized. Most vamps are cold killers beneath a veneer of civility. Their powers and immortality let them shed their empathy, make them a little crazy. Luring people in is a game for

them. It breaks up the monotony of eternal life. Their biggest kick is playing with their food before they eat it.” “So you kill the bad guys before they hurt anyone else? Is that it?” “No, Charlotte! That’s not it. I just scare the hell out of them before they hurt someone. Often the minute they step into town.” He got quiet again. “And they run far enough they’re somebody else’s problem.” “And in exchange,” she barked, “the town lets you feed on them?” “Yes. Some of them, anyway. Women mostly. Well, women only,” he admitted baldly. “You see, there’s a…a sexual component to my feeding.” Standing in front of her once again, David stroked her arms. “I feel it. My donor feels it. It doesn’t have to be that way, but, well, I’ve been alone a long time. I offer women sexual arousal and release when I feed from them. But what I really want is someone to love. And I express that need when I feed. “Only a small group of locals knows what I am. That I’ve been living here since 1863.” “Here?” she asked. “What do you mean by here?” David looked around the unfinished cottage, through the window down to the lake. “This is my home, Charlotte. My land. Or at least it was before I sold it to you.” “You sold it to me? Wait…to lure me here? The perfect property?” “Well, at least that’s something we agree on.” “So the cabin is—” “My home, yes. My needs are simple. Although I have been thinking about putting in indoor plumbing.” “Hmmph. How very twenty-first century of you. Look, I need time to think, David,” she said, backing away from him. Hooking her finger in Orrin’s collar, she pulled the lab with her. “And I need to get away from you. Not permanently,” she added quickly when his face darkened. “I guess I’m willing to give you that much,” he said grudgingly. “Just long enough to get my head around this.” “Of course.” He took a step back and leaned heavily on the unfinished wall. “Just tell me what happens if I do decide to leave. Or have you evicted, fired, staked, or whatever.” David exhaled slowly. “Well, I go with Plan B.”

“Which is?” “Well, Plan A was the one where I’d gently reveal what I was, although that part’s not going so well at the moment. Anyway, you’d come to accept me. Fall in love with me. Maybe even think about spending eternity with me. Or not,” he added quickly when she paled. “Anyway, Plan B’s the one where I give you a little mental…push. In my head, I suggest you don’t like living here. It wasn’t what you wanted. Too far north, maybe. The summers are too short or you want to be closer to a big urban center.” His mouth thinned. “And you go back to Maggie, list the place, and I buy it back.” David shrugged. “I was going to make sure you made a profit. But you’d forget about me in time. You’d think of me only as the cute guy who poured your foundation. Not the man who fell in love with you.”

Chapter Six

Love. What the hell would a dead guy know about love? Charlotte rolled over in bed, punched her pillow, and anchored the linens around her neck. She wasn’t cold. She was just feeling a little…vulnerable around the jugular. Orrin grunted and snorted. “Hey, if you don’t like the company or the way the mattress is rocking, there’s a dog bed out in the living room with your name on it,” she hissed into the darkness. She recanted when he whined. “Aw, I’m sorry, Orrin. Come here.” Great, she thought as she patted the empty space beside her. I’m going off on my dog just like my ex used to go off on me. When Orrin crawled up beside her, she stroked his chest. “Maybe a little therapy would help me, hmm?” Curling around on himself, the dog went back to sleep almost immediately. “Who would have thought it, Orrin?” she whispered when he started snoring. “Two men. Stuff like that happens only in fiction, right?” Only she wasn’t sure she wanted either of them. Flipping her

pillow over, she found a cool spot for her head. Len was pretty much a lost cause. He was trying—she had to give him that—but old dogs and all that. Her feelings of abandonment and hurt ran deep. She didn’t think she could get past them, or if she’d trust him enough to really try. David was…well, he was perfect, loving, considerate. All terrific traits for a dead guy. “One’s a dirtbag and the other’s a one-way ticket to a dirt nap. He’s fooling around on me, only technically he’s just eating out.” In the dark, her brow furrowed. David had tricked her into his life. Well, maybe tricked was too strong a word. Maneuvered with calculated deviousness was more accurate. Charlotte shivered. She knew he was a fan, but this was just…creepy. Vampires weren’t supposed to be real. David was very, very real. So were the fears running around her head, big and pounding on her adrenal gland for attention. “And why isn’t his skin cold?” At Charlotte’s outburst, Orin stirred, snorted, then started snoring again. She stroked the dog’s shoulder. “Is it just me or do the undead make everybody crazy?” Sighing, Charlotte closed her eyes against the darkness and tried to fall back asleep. A warm, solid body pressed into her back. Long legs cradled hers. Naked hips and a decidedly tasty cock nudged her ass. Firm and warm, lips moved over her shoulder, her bare back. Bare? What the hell had happened to her nightgown? She tensed. “Are you going to hurt me?” “Have I ever hurt you?” David’s voice was deep, quiet, but conveyed a touch of wretchedness when he answered. He slid the sheets down and kissed her arm. Reaching around her, he touched her thigh, slid his fingers between them, caressed the small, raised bumps on her inner leg. “Other than the initial pain of my teeth breaking your skin? If I’d wanted to hurt you, to kill you, Charlotte, you’d have been dead long before now. “It was underhanded, but I lured you here to get to know you. For you to get to know me. I can’t force you to love me. To stay with me. But I won’t deny I want that.” “So what are you doing here? As if I have to ask?” “Hmm?” he purred, kissed the back of her ear, ran his fingertips over the soft curls on her mound. “Persuading you.” Rolling her forward, he wrapped his hands around her hips and pulled gently until she got up on her knees. He knelt between them and leaned over her. “Why me?” “Can’t we make love first and talk later? Guess not,” he answered his own question when she exhaled harshly.

“You’ve got perky twenty-five-year-olds chasing your ancient ass, women falling over themselves to open a vein for you. What do you need me for?” “Because I need you.” His belly pressed into her back, and he nuzzled the base of her ear. “It started a couple of years back. I wasn’t lying when I said I was a fan of your books. I like what you write. I started to see patterns and subtext in book after book. Like how you feel lonely sometimes even when you’re with other people. How Artemus wants to be loved, deserves to be loved, but always gets kicked to the curb in the end.” He brushed her hair aside and kissed her cheek. “It felt like I was starting to get to know you through your writing, and I liked what I saw. I hoped you might feel the same way, if you got a chance to know me.” “I’m not sure I believe any of this. Vampires aren’t real. Sure there’s a subculture of Goths playacting and if you’re into that, if you’re actually involved in blood play, even if it is with senior citizens, maybe you should see somebody.” “You offering to hook me up with your ex’s therapist?” he asked drolly. “Enough for now, Charlotte. Either your post-modern head will let you believe or it won’t. For now, listen to what your body tells you when I touch you.” His voice was low, hypnotic, and echoed softly in her head. If she wanted to, if she really wanted to, Charlotte knew she could refuse him. She just didn’t know why on Earth she would. “You feel so good,” he murmured as he cupped her breasts. “I could touch you like this for hours.” Long fingers stroked, squeezed, and caressed. Finding her nipples, he pulled them into hardness, then pinched just rough enough to make her squirm. In this position, Charlotte’s breasts felt full, sensual, weighted, and needy as they swung freely and grazed the sheets between caresses. Having her ass in the air and David’s hard thighs nudging hers was erotic. When he licked her back with long, wet strokes of his tongue, she trembled and grinned. “I’m glad you like that,” he whispered and kissed the dimples above her ass. His hands moved faster now, squeezing her breasts, holding her waist, tracing her shoulders, back, and hips. When he caressed her thighs, then skimmed her mound with his fingertips, he groaned like he was in pain. “I need you.” She gasped when he stroked her pussy, tugged lightly on her hair, circled the mouth of her sheath, then sank the tip of his finger in her. Again and again he penetrated her, going in no more than an inch each time. When she tried to rock back into his strokes, he stilled her with the strength of his legs, and his free hand wrapped around her hip. “Uh uh, my beauty,” he said when she moaned in frustration. “You’re not sufficiently persuaded. Yet.” Charlotte trembled at the stark promise in his words.

“Wh—” she cried out when her butt was hoisted into the air. Gasping, almost frantic as the world spun around her, she suddenly found herself hanging upside down, facing David’s erect cock. Her hands were on the mattress like she was standing on her head, only there was little if any weight for her arms to support. Her legs stuck out at a right angle in front of her and were hooked over David’s shoulders. You had to hand it to the undead. They sure were strong suckers. Wincing at the bad pun, Charlotte gave up fighting the vertigo and concentrated on the delicious things David was doing. Holding her hips, he brought her pussy to his mouth and kissed it reverently. “Ohmygawd, ohmygawd,” she blurted out when his tongue circled her clit. She felt lightheaded. In the dimness, she caught a glimpse of his hard cock when she looked between her boobs, which were gravitating toward her chin. His tongue moved again. “This should be illegal,” she gasped and started to laugh. “We’ll petition for a new bylaw,” he said. “How exactly would you like to word that?” His tongue started moving back and forth across her clit. Each time he moved, his balls swung lightly. Tipping her head forward, Charlotte pursed her lips, kissed one, then trailed her tongue over the other as best she could. David growled his approval. The strain on her neck proved too much and, after a moment, she let her head drop back down. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m not as strong as you.” “Hmm. Baby, you can lick my nuts any time. I like it when you tease them like that. Hell, I like everything you do,” he added and resumed tonguing her pussy. Back and forth, a languid flick from side to side, the slow, lingering pressure as he sunk his tongue into her, flattened it, and lapped out her juices. Charlotte got even dizzier, and she wasn’t sure it was entirely because of the blood rushing to her head. She groaned with relief and disappointment when, after what seemed like a long, long time, he lowered her onto her back. Hooking his hands under her arms, he dragged her toward the foot of the bed, laying her out so her feet were on the pillows. “I want to come inside you,” he whispered as he spread her legs and lay between them. When Orrin jumped up beside them, David gave the dog a gentle push and made him get back down. Her lover mouthed her breasts and nudged her slit with the tip of his cock. “Yes,” she answered and tried not to sound too desperate. “I bought condoms,” she added, waving at the closet, then stopped. “No,” David said and shook his head slowly. Arching his hips, he dragged the head of his cock over her, making her tremble and arch. “I want to feel you. Feel your wetness, your heat holding me.” Charlotte balked.

“Sex with a vamp is always safe,” he murmured and kissed her breast. “I can’t give you children because, technically, I’m dead. And I can’t give you any diseases. Again, that dead thing. My body can’t incubate viruses or germs.” “Not even a cold?” she asked, wondering how they’d gotten away from the hot sex, her anxiety, and onto this train of conversation. “Not even a case of the sniffles.” He rolled his hips again, pressed down on her clit, and rubbed it with his shaft. “But what my body can do is love you, Charlotte.” “You’re dead,” she blurted out and pushed at his shoulders. After a second or two, he leaned away obligingly. “And your point would be?” “I’m trying to reconcile fantasy and reality here.” There was an edge to her voice, part fear and part anger. “Until this morning, vampires were my bread and butter. Now—” “Now you’re the meal?” He sighed, dipped his head to kiss her chest, then straightened. The dim light emphasized the beautiful planes of his face. “I can only ask you to judge me based on what you’ve seen. I’ve never hurt you. Physically,” he added and tipped his face away for a moment. “Emotionally, I’ve been a complete ass. I earned your trust, then blew everything. I don’t deserve it, but I want to try again. I love you, Charlotte. I really do. I haven’t loved anybody in a long time. Not because women weren’t willing but because they weren’t…they didn’t have the heart, the head that you do. You trusted me with your body before. Will you give me a chance to regain that?” “Yes.” She nodded nervously. “I’m a total idiot and pathetically desperate.” “Desperate maybe but only because I’m good at pressing your buttons.” Charlotte groaned when he parted her folds and pushed inside. He felt a little cool, but that only made her more aware of every inch of him. Wow. Bigger was better. Warming up quickly, he sunk in a little and withdrew, just like he’d done with his finger, making her feel each exquisite tug and stretch. Taking his weight on his elbows, David flicked his hair back and stared down between them to watch his cock move in her. “Hold me, baby. Please. With your arms, your legs. I want to sink so deep into you, you’ll never let me go.” He trembled and grinned when she wrapped her legs around his hips and dug her fingers into his back. “That’s it. So warm, soft.” He grunted, then grinned some more as he sunk back into her, going a little deeper with every stroke. “Oh, you’re in trouble now, baby.” “Huh?”

“Oh yeah.” The firm globes of his ass hardened beneath her calves just before he drove forward again. “You think I’d live without this? Without feeling your loving wrapped around me? You think I chased after you hard before this? Woman, you’ve just guaranteed this vamp will be hounding this sweet tail for eternity.” When she opened her mouth to remind him she had no intentions of becoming undead, he cut her off by fitting his mouth to hers and sinking his tongue in deep. She tasted herself on his mouth, smelled her musk on him. Her pussy spasmed when she remembered how good it had felt. David’s big body twitched. So did his cock, causing her nails to dig into his back in response. He hissed before resuming his slow, teasing pistoning. His tongue moved over hers, touched her palate, coaxed her lips into widening so she could kiss him back just as hard. When his teeth scraped her lower lip, she felt a moment of fear, but it vanished when he simply nibbled, tugged, and licked the spot after he was done. “Biting as foreplay is underrated. In my opinion,” he whispered against her lips, then grinned and nibbled again. He drew his teeth over her throat, and his canines felt small, normal. He nipped the base of her neck where it met her shoulder and licked away the sting. “But I’ve got a bit of an oral fixation,” he added, eyed her breasts lecherously, and started suckling them, one then the other. His hips moved faster, drove his cock in deeper, fucked her harder. “Lucky me,” she gasped and tightened her grip when he tensed and began a slow, deliberate thrust. Inch by hard inch, he filled her, stretched her until his belly compressed hers and his hips gave her bottom a firm, intimate shove. When his ass contracted and his pelvis rocked against hers, Charlotte sighed and dropped her head back. She felt full. The thick base of David’s cock was delicious, and when he rotated his hips, ground against her, he felt too big. That had never happened to her before, and she liked it. A lot. Trembling, she tried not to whine when he began to withdraw. “Plenty more where that came from, Charlotte,” he promised, and his voice was thick with male pride. “Sometime soon we’ll go all night.” Slowing when the head of his cock stretched out the mouth of her sheath, he lingered, pumped her with shallow, digging thrusts, then drove into her again. “But not tonight. I want you too much now. Need you,” he groaned and arched his back to grind against her when he was buried in her. After that, he kept up a steady, hard rhythm, filling her over and over. The lips of her pussy swelled, held him, slid back and forth as he moved, tugged on her clit with each thrust. Sweat formed on his back, his chest, and he slid against her breasts smoothly, seducing them with delicious friction. She didn’t know if he needed to sweat or if it was a form of residual muscle memory. On top of that, he started breathing faster, and his body got warmer until he was hot and hard everywhere. Clinging to his heat, Charlotte moaned when he drove into her particularly hard, withdrew with aching slowness, then drove into her again.

Her thighs started to shake, and she started to sweat, too. Holding him tight, needing him deep, her hips tipped up to his. Thrust, arch, grind. He filled her, over and over, taking her hard, giving her what her body craved. Muscles inside her flexed, making her pussy contract. Groaning, David shook his head and drove in as far as he could. “Yeah. Fuck,” he hissed, yanked his hips back, then filled her again. He hissed again when she bore down on him deliberately, rhythmically. Her body took over after that. A fist of sensation grabbed her, twisted, held on tight. Ratcheting up notch after notch, her pleasure mounted until it was a hot, living thing in her belly, her breasts. Arching, driving her pussy into him as hard as she could, Charlotte gasped and trembled as waves of ecstasy poured through her. Bending her, consuming her until she was gasping for air, crying out nonsense words, and squeezing her eyes shut against the bright white light behind them. Groaning, David pounded into her even harder, driving her release, riding it until she was breathing again, inhaling with greedy, rasping gasps. He started shaking. Sweat covered his chest when he levered it off her to drive his cock in hard and deep. One groan, then another, and another after that kept time with the hard throbbing of his rod inside her. Buried inside her until he couldn’t go any deeper, he humped her with short, harsh thrusts, paused, groaned one last time, and collapsed on top of her. It was hard to breathe, but Charlotte didn’t mind. Not really. She liked knowing she’d taken his strength, that he’d given all he had to her. She also liked it when he finally took some of his weight back onto his arms, gazed down at her, brushed her hair back, and grinned. In the dimness, his eyes shone with a warmth that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but love. That rattled her more than the being screwed by a dead guy thing did, but her post-coital euphoria kept it at bay. When he finally rolled off her, he tucked her up into his side, arranged her arms and legs so she was wrapped around him, and sighed with obvious contentment as he stretched out on his back. The small bedroom felt hot now, and Charlotte didn’t mind the sweat cooling her body. David’s temperature seemed to drop a degree or two, and that helped as well. His seed tickled her thighs, wet and oddly right. Languor spread through her, and she was in no mood to rush off to the bathroom to get cleaned up. His being a vampire still weirded her out in ways she had difficulty comprehending, but some part of her psyche obviously trusted him, was comfortable with him. Was a tiny bit willing to accept the olive branch of that really, really good orgasm he’d given her. “Have you ever been in love?” she asked after awhile, maybe more out of a need to keep him close than anything else. Her ex hadn’t liked to cuddle after sex. He’d preferred sleeping. “Before now, you mean?” David loosened his hold on her but only so he could stroke her arms, her back, rub her bottom.

“All right,” she conceded. “Before now.” “Well, I was married. At first we didn’t love each other, although we were friends. What we did love was being able to have sex.” When he kissed her head, Charlotte felt the smile on his lips. She chuckled obligingly. “Love came in time. She was my best friend.” “How old were you? When you got married?” “Fifteen.” He shrugged when she lifted her head and stared down at him. “I told you we were children. It was 1775,” he added when she continued to stare. “When you’re lucky to reach adulthood, you aren’t inclined to put things off.” She exhaled and nodded, acknowledging the truth of his words. “Did you go to school together?” “No.” He stroked her damp hair and encouraged her to lay her head back down on his chest. “Education for boys and girls was very different. I was sent to what you’d call a private academy for a few years, where I learned to read, write, my sums, Latin and Greek. After, I entered an apprenticeship under my father. Her education was at home. Her mother was her teacher, and she received the same basic schooling as I did. She was also taught how to perform household tasks—to sew, draw, and sing. “My father was a cabinetmaker. You’d call him a carpenter. Hers was a butcher. He hired my father to outfit his new shop. They paired the two of us together,” David added with a light shrug that bounced Charlotte’s head up. “She was a pretty girl. We had two children eventually.” “You have children?” “Had.” The sadness in his voice was audible but muted. “The first was stillborn. The second died shortly after he learned to walk.” “And you never had any others?” “No. Well, I was turned at twenty-three. I was dying. Dysentery. That’s what killed my son. A friend of a friend offered to cure me. I didn’t know he was a vampire. I agreed because I didn’t want to leave my wife a childless widow.” Propping her head up on her hand, she looked down at him. “But you do age, don’t you? Slowly of course.” She touched his smooth cheek, the faint line between his brows. “No. I assure you,” he added when she frowned, “I look exactly the same as I did the year I died. I’ve packed on a few more pounds of muscle, but other than that—” “What I mean is you…and I’m not saying this to insult you…but you look like you’re thirty-five. A very tasty thirty-five,” she qualified quickly, “but not twenty-three.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re looking at me with twenty-first century eyes. There was no such thing as modern medical care, dentistry, or personal hygiene when I was human.” “When were you born?” “Seventeen sixty.” “And your wife, did she…” “No, she died of natural causes at the age of sixty-six.” He sighed. “Quite remarkable really when you consider the average age span was less than twenty-five years. There are times when I still miss her, but she was wise enough to know she was a child of her era. She was comfortable with that and did not want immortality.” “Did you? Want your immortality?” “I cherish the life I have, Charlotte,” he said and caressed her face, kissed her brow. “But I am alone. Lonely.” “I don’t know if I can be what you want.” “But you are here, now. In my arms,” he added and held her close. “It is enough for tonight. Sleep, beloved. We’ll talk more tomorrow. Besides, the tinsmith is coming in the morning to install your gutters, and he likes to start early.”

****

Carefully, Charlotte scooped out some of the plaster David had mixed up, plopped it on the hawk, and carried it over to him. “So how come you can go outside during the day?” she asked when he handed her his empty hawk and took the full one from her. “My kind has always been able to tolerate light,” he said as he deftly troweled up a bit of plaster, cleaned off the edges of his float, and smoothed a thin layer of the compound over the drywall. “Candles first. Electric light now. But we’re allergic to the sun. Direct exposure makes me ill, progressively so the more I’m exposed. Over the past few decades, we’ve discovered it’s only the UV rays we can’t take. Hence the sunblock.” His wrist and forearm moved back and forth in sure, practiced arcs. “And I’m old,” he added as he scooped up more plaster. “Almost two hundred fifty years old. My body and my powers are far stronger than a newly turned vampire. You, my love, would need to avoid all direct sunlight. At least for the first fifty or so years.”

She filled up the empty hawk and held it ready for him. The tinsmith had left about a half hour ago, and when his truck had rumbled down the drive, Charlotte had come down to the cottage to see what David was up to. She hadn’t expected to be put to work. David had dispensed with his short stilts and was now hovering about two feet off the floor. That still weirded her out. That wasn’t the only thing. All day, even that morning when she was lying beside his sleeping body, waiting for the sunrise, her head had been hard at work convincing her there were no such thing as vampires. There couldn’t be. Seeing him float above the floor put the brakes on her desperate quest for self-delusion…put the brakes on with a finality that left her shaken but convinced. “I’m really nervous about the sex part of drinking blood,” Charlotte admitted. Just the idea of drinking blood grossed her out completely. It smacked of cannibalism, but she wasn’t up to admitting that. “It doesn’t have to be that way. Thank you,” he said as he swapped his empty hawk for her full one. “That woman you caught me with? I’ve fed on her since she was a teenager, but it was a celibate act for most of that time.” When Charlotte shot him a look, he explained, “Once she became engaged at nineteen, she didn’t want to be touched sexually by anyone but her husband. She continued to allow me to feed from her once a month though. Except when she was pregnant, of course. I didn’t want to risk any harm to her babies by taking blood from her.” “Of course,” Charlotte muttered and walked back to the big bucket holding the plaster. “It’s only been in the last eight or so years since her husband died that I allowed my sexuality to again meld with hers while feeding.” He sighed. “I crossed a line with her the other day. She asked to experience an orgasm one last time. She no longer feels the same sensations she did when she was younger, touching herself. I knew I loved you. That I wanted to be with you. I betrayed you.” When he looked down at Charlotte, his eyes were wide and sad. “I feel worthless saying it, but I do promise never to betray you again. I must drink the blood of others, but I’ll never give myself to them. Ever again.” Dusting her hands off, Charlotte stepped away. “I’m having a hard time with this,” she said with deliberate understatement. “You’ve fed from me twice, and it was so incredibly sexual. How—” “I can show you if you’d like.” His feet touched the floor, and he walked toward her after setting his tools down. “Just a sip, my beauty. No more. It’ll be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I won’t give myself to you when I take it.” She gave him a jerky, nervous nod. “Okay, but I’m scared.” “I know. I wouldn’t expect you not to be. The idea that vampires are real takes some getting used to.”

Eyes that had looked so sad just a moment ago now glowed with warmth and love. He touched her hand, raised it to his mouth, parted his lips just enough so she could see the slow slide of his canines. Turning her hand over, he pierced her lightly. Charlotte felt the sting of his teeth on her wrist, the gentle drawing of his mouth as he drank, his cool, soothing tongue. It was over so quickly she didn’t have time to get hysterical. When he stepped back, she stared down at her wrist in astonishment. The punctures were now little more than red marks that continued to fade when she rubbed them. Looking up at David, the first thing she noticed was the blatant erection straining against his jeans. “I held myself back from you, Charlotte. Kept my need inside, although my cock feels like it’s ready to snap in half,” he added ruefully and, with a grimace, adjusted himself. “But…it wasn’t sexual,” she said. “It was peaceful. Like an endorphin rush. Nothing more.” “For you, yes. But because it was you,” he said as he closed in on her, backed her into the window, held her arms out at her sides and captured her mouth with his. He kissed her long and hard, let his tongue move with hers, rubbed his torso against her breasts. “I’m in the mood to christen the new laundry cabinet. Throw you over it, lick that sweet ass of yours until you squirm, and take you from behind.” Without asking, he tossed her over his shoulder, marched into the laundry room, and bent her over the unfinished countertop. Charlotte gasped when he dragged her shorts down, shoved his face into her pussy, and reached around her so he could tug her bra up enough to bare her breasts. “Hey, slivers,” she yelped when her nipples grazed the surface. David hadn’t put the new laminate on yet. He solved the problem by cupping her breasts. Behind her, his tongue was doing amazing things. Sinking into her pussy, lapping up her cream, and swirling over her clit until she wriggled back into him. After several long, sweet minutes with her ass tipped up and her hands braced on the wall that sat only a few inches from her nose, she felt his hands slip away from her breasts. “You’ve got just about the hottest ass I’ve ever seen, woman,” David groaned and rubbed his erect cock over each globe before settling between them and pushing into her core. He squeezed her backside, groaned again, and resumed pushing. When he was seated inside her, he used his hold on her breasts to pull her back into him. Charlotte helped by pushing against the wall, and they rocked against each other with a slow, grinding sensuality. “Next time I need to feed I’m biting that choice ass.” She chuckled despite the sincerity in his voice. The click of Orrin’s nails preceded his entry to the laundry room. He just stared up at them blankly, then left, no doubt, to go back to sleep in his sunbeam.

When David pinched her nipples, Charlotte arched her back and groaned. It felt decadent, standing there in the corner room with the afternoon sunlight streaming in from two windows. The heat painted her body. She smelled wood, plaster, paint, and David. Delicious. Sexy as hell. He thrust into her hard and after she finished panting, she pushed her ass right back at him. “Yeah, baby,” David growled. “Fuck me with that hot ass.” He let go of her breasts, squeezed her cheeks together, then used his thumbs to pull them apart. She felt his gaze moving over every inch of her and gasped when he returned to her breasts and rubbed her nipples, hard. “Show me you can’t get enough of me. Can’t get enough of this.” Punctuating his words with a flurry of thrusts, he groaned and shoved her thighs into the front of the counter, over and over. Tipping her ass up even more, she drove back into him, loving the heat and friction, the slap of his heavy balls on her clit. She felt his knees bend, felt the strength of his legs lift her up as he drove into her, panted when he mauled her breasts. One hand slid over her body, cupped her ass as a thumb circled her anus. What had to be saliva dribbled over her. His thumb pushed in slow and gentle. “Ohmygawd,” she groaned, shook, then grinned like she belonged in an insane asylum. Pushing back tentatively, Charlotte reveled in the feel of being taken in both places at once. The counterpoint of his thrusts, the fullness and warmth. With a chuckle bordering on arrogance, David leaned forward, kissed her back, and straightened. Like earlier, she felt his gaze move over her. Felt his body warm, felt the strength in his strokes as he sped up, heard his breathing get faster, swore she could smell his arousal. Bracing her hands against the wall, she lifted her chest away from the unfinished counter. One breast swung freely. The other was cupped tight in David’s hand, and he pinched her nipple hard enough to make her gasp. “Come, Charlotte,” he growled. “Come now.” Her head was filled with the sensual rumble of his voice. The command echoed, shimmered, and got stronger instead of fading. His scent was stronger now, too. Sweet, spicy, and primal, it painted her nostrils, filled her with lust, and made her drive her body back into his. She cried out when her belly tightened, and her pussy convulsed. This orgasm was hard and driving. It twisted, pounded, demanded. Squirming and feeling like she could never get enough, Charlotte’s body arched, her muscles quaked, and she cried out again. David drove into her hard, claimed her, owned her. When it was finally over, the only thing keeping her from collapsing onto her side and curling into a fetal position was his sweaty grip, the hard cock impaling her in time with David’s moans and grunts. Wetness trickled over the insides of her legs, and she slumped forward, exhausted.

Behind her, David snarled, dragged his cock out of her, knelt, and grabbed her hips. She groaned when she felt the sharp sting of his teeth on her tender thigh, right inside the crease where ass met leg. His breath washed her in harsh bursts, in time with the suction on her skin. The soft, wet sucking sound. He drew on her twice, paused, and drew once more. Trembling, Charlotte tried to control her fear. He was feeding off her. Feeding! She wasn’t used to being anywhere other than at the top of the food chain. Her body held itself perfectly still as he slid his teeth out of her. There was no pain, just the strange sensation of movement inside her skin, and then he was licking the spot with long, deliberate strokes…much longer than she figured was necessary. Suddenly, he was gone. The sound he made terrified her, more of a bellow than a snarl. She turned and saw a man standing outside of the window, watching them. Either he was nine feet tall or he was levitating. “Hey, dude. She taste as good as she looks?”

Chapter Seven

Instinctively, Charlotte covered her face when her ears registered the sound of breaking glass. David had jumped through the window, had his hand wrapped around the other man’s throat, and was holding him up in the air. The man’s feet kicked out uselessly, and then he held both his hands up, forming the letter T, fingertips to palm. David snarled again and threw him to the ground. The noise must have woken Orrin up because the big lab started barking and raced into the laundry room. He took one look outside, whined, and tried to tuck his body behind Charlotte’s legs.

“Jeez. Dude.” The man outside was younger, in his mid-twenties, and he was wearing a longsleeved shirt, tailored pants, and a wide-brimmed hat. The hand rubbing his throat was oddly pale. “That was harsh.” “Who the hell are you, and why should I let you live?” The other man stood and brushed off his pants. “The name’s Karlis.” He had a faint accent, eastern European and slightly guttural. “Sorry for intruding, but I was just driving through on my way from Ottawa and caught your scent. It’s been awhile since I communed with another vamp.” Averting his eyes, he waved vaguely in Charlotte’s direction. “I thought you were just hanging with a blood slave. My mistake.” As she scrambled to hoist her bra down and get into the rest of her clothes, it didn’t escape Charlotte’s notice that Karlis moved closer to the house, out of the direct sunlight. What was this place? Vampire central? Disapproval rumbled in David’s chest. “I swear, dude, if you’re that pissed, I’m gone.” Karlis held up his hands. “I was just looking to hang out for a while.” He turned to leave. “My name’s David Hadfield.” His voice wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t too unfriendly either. “This is Charlotte. She’s mine.” “Clearly,” Karlis said with a sinfully wide grin. The corners of his mouth dropped when David hissed at him. “And you’re a lucky man to have her,” he added quickly.

****

“So how long have you been in this country?” They were sitting in David’s cabin, sharing a bottle of bourbon Karlis had produced from the trunk of his very flashy, very expensive convertible. “Two weeks.” David grinned coolly. “How long have you been in North America?” “Almost three years.” “Ah. Your English is good.”

“Thanks. I made an effort, you know? Although I picked up a lot from movies back home.” He gave Charlotte a teasing wink. It made him look even younger and cuter. “Keanu Reeves flicks were real popular in Lithuania after the communists pulled out. At first, I could only go out at night, so I hung out in theatres. A lot.” Karlis leaned toward Charlotte, put his elbow on the table, and laid his chin in his hand. The fading sunlight made his stylish black hair gleam and his blue eyes light up when he looked at her. “So is it serious between you two? Has a sucker like me even got a chance?” He was so audacious, she laughed. “That’s got to be the worst pun I’ve ever heard.” “Yeah. Probably.” He grinned and topped up her glass. “So what do you do around here for entertainment?” he asked, turning his attention back to David. “It’s a small town, so this is pretty much it. Hanging out with friends at the end of the day, people you love.” Fixing Charlotte with a smoldering look, he picked up her hand, kissed it, and was still holding it when he turned back to Karlis. “And so there’s no misunderstanding, you need to know this community and I have a long-standing relationship. I protect them. That includes from other vampires. While you’re here, you will not feed.” David sniffed the air. “Which won’t be a problem because you don’t need to.” “Dude…impressive,” Karlis said and raised his glass to David. “How old are you anyway?” “Old enough. And yourself?” “Just passed my sixty-fifth birthday.” Karlis sat up straight and puffed out his already impressive chest. “Not bad for a senior citizen. But seriously, I mean you eat, right? No offense to the lovely Ms. Charlotte, but I could smell you at least two-K outside of town. You’ve been sipping from more than one well.” Charlotte shifted uncomfortably, and David tightened his hold on her hand. “Like I said, the community and I have a relationship.” When Karlis’ brow furrowed, David continued. “I live here permanently. I have for decades. I own my own business, earn my own money, and yes, there is a core group of individuals I feed from regularly.” “Wow. Not a bad setup. Sometimes life on the move gets a little tired, you know? I’m not sure it’s for me, but I wouldn’t mind sticking around for a couple of days and see how you make it work.”

****

Back at the trailer, David took the keys from Charlotte and opened the door. Orrin stuck his nose outside tentatively, and only when David called him out, asked him if he needed to go pee, did Orrin venture outside. Earlier, on their way up from the construction site, Orrin had given Karlis a wide berth and seemed more than happy to be left inside the trailer. Charlotte noticed how close Orrin was sticking to David, never venturing more than a few feet away, always keeping the man in his line of sight. After no more than two minutes outside, he rushed back to the trailer and seemed more interested in staying close to them than nosing around for dinner. She filled his dish and got some salmon fillets, corn, and baby potatoes out for her and David. “You didn’t mention inviting Karlis over for dinner.” “That’s because I’m not going to. And you’re not to invite him inside here.” “You mean that part’s true?” “Yes. My kind can’t enter a home unless they’re invited. Call me paranoid, but there’s something about that guy I don’t trust.” “Just because his language is a little archaic doesn’t mean—” “It’s not that,” David interrupted. “Expensive car, expensive clothes, hell, that haircut probably cost a couple hundred bucks, yet he didn’t talk about a job.” “Well, he is old enough to have worked and accumulated some wealth.” “Yeah and did you notice how he answered my question about his age? With vamps, it’s not how old you are chronologically that’s important. You’re measured by how long you’ve been a vamp.” “Because that ties into your strength, if you can go out in the sunlight, right?” “Exactly right.” David shook his head, scratched Orrin behind the ear before getting down plates and glasses. “He makes me uneasy, so it’s best he stay in the cabin while he’s here, where I can keep an eye on him. Until he leaves, stay away from him. Okay?” Charlotte nodded, put the potatoes on to boil, and dipped the salmon into a wine and herb glaze. That night, after she’d spent some time at the computer and David dealt with paperwork, he invited himself to stay the night without asking. He simply led her into her bedroom, took off his clothes, climbed between the sheets, and lay there, propped up on one elbow. Looking like a pagan love offering. “This doesn’t mean I’m a sure thing, David,” she said as she slipped into the bathroom to change into her nightgown. “I was just starting to get to like being single, and besides, your life’s pretty weird.

Even I think that, and I write horror for a living.” When she flicked off the light and came back into the room, David held up the sheets for her. “Okay,” he said, grinned, and cuddled her when she climbed in next to him. “For now, just use me for sex. You can fall in love with me later.” His grin widened when he took her hand, slid it down his body, and wrapped her fingers around his cock. As always, she marveled at his strength and speed when he flung the covers back, spun his body around so the tip of his shaft was poised above her mouth and he was teasing her folds with his fingers. In no time at all, he was hard and groaning with his face planted between her legs. Just as she was getting really turned on, he levered his body off hers, stretched out on his back, and wrapped a hand around his cock. He held it up to her in invitation. “Ride me. Make us both howl at the moon when we come.” “Great. Now I feel like I’m in a werewolf movie,” she groused, but she maneuvered on top of him and slid her pussy across his hard shaft. David chuckled, then moaned when she pushed down and took him in deep. She dipped, swayed, chewed on her lower lip when he palmed her breasts, panted when he squeezed her nipples. All the time her thighs pumped with a grace and authority she’d never known she’d possessed when it came to lovemaking. At the end, he stroked her clit, then rubbed it hard when she came. He grabbed her waist and forced her to keep going until he threw his head back, bared his smooth, even teeth, and pumped his release into her. Charlotte grinned drunkenly and let herself collapse.

****

Charlotte, I was thinking about the Lake Champlain watercolor. The one we bought in New York a few summers back? As always, she was wary when she read Len’s e-mail. Her shoulders tensed up. Since you’re living near the water, I think it might be more appropriate hanging at your place. Can I give it to you as a housewarming thing? Guess I can’t call it a gift, considering how I screwed you over for it. Another black mark on me. She sat back in her chair and gaped at the screen. She’d spotted the old watercolor in an antique shop, fell in love with it, and paid for it. Unfortunately, she’d used one of their joint credit cards. Before Len decided he was going to leave her, he’d taken a few things out of the house, that picture included.

At the time, he’d said he wanted to have the glass replaced. What he’d actually done was hang it in his office at work. When it came time to divide their assets, he claimed it and a few other pieces of art as his personal property. That inn we stayed at near Lake Placid was something, wasn’t it? The food alone was worth the trip. I’ve been thinking about that lately, those little vacations we took. Guess I miss doing stuff like that. Anyway, have to go. Let me know if you have room for the watercolor. Len. Still staring at the screen, Charlotte sat up slowly when she heard David let himself into the trailer. “Hey, Charlotte,” he sung out. “I’m going to grab a shower. Wanna scrub my back?” Orrin padded into her little office, shoved his snout under her arm, and let his tail wag his entire body. She scratched his chin, rubbed his shoulders. No matter what, he always greeted her like she was the center of his universe. “Would you like some dinner?” she asked the dog as she powered her computer down. “Silly question, huh?” she added when his ears perked and he took off toward the kitchen. The water in the shower turned on just as she got out of her chair. Popping her head into the bathroom, Charlotte paused. Etched glass obscured her view of the middle of David’s body, but she could see the water pinging off his shoulders. He flicked his soaked hair back, making his lats fan out. She wanted to lick the water trailing down his chest. When he opened his eyes, he smiled at her. One corner of his mouth quirked up, then the other, like he couldn’t be happier to find her ogling him. He glanced at her nipples, which were hard, prominent, and pointing his way. His smile got even broader. Charlotte cleared her throat, trying to get a grip on herself. “What would you like for dinner? Besides me,” she added when his smile morphed into lechery. “If I can’t have you, I’ll settle for steak.” He picked up her soap, ran it over his arms, his chest. She closed her mouth before she started drooling. “I picked up a couple of nice ones yesterday. They should still be in your fridge.” “Rare?” “Is there any other way?” Chuckling, Charlotte turned away from the hot body in her shower before she joined him, thus resigning them both to starvation. Besides, Orrin was standing beside her and nudging her butt with increasing desperation. She measured out his kibble carefully. David was always needling her about controlling the dog’s portions.

By the time Orrin had inhaled his food and she was rubbing seasoning into the steaks, David stepped out of the bathroom. His hair was dark with moisture, tousled from being towel dried. Despite that, water dripped onto his shoulders. The water was the only thing he was wearing, and she inhaled sharply, enthralled by the beauty of his body, his symmetry and strength. The look in his eyes was even more emotional than Orrin’s. Nobody, she realized, had ever looked at her like David did. He kissed her briefly, grabbed a cherry tomato out of the container, popped it in his mouth, and headed for the door. “I’m just going over to my place to grab some clean clothes. Be right back,” he added as he pulled his boots on. “Naked?” “Why not?” He gave her a wink and a grin. “There’s nobody around to see me except you. Karlis took off this afternoon to go down to the city. We won’t see him until tomorrow. If he comes back. Besides, I like the way you look at me.” He left but didn’t move as fast as he usually did. With her eyes glued to his round, spectacular butt, Charlotte realized he was drawing out the show for her benefit. She enjoyed every minute of it. “So how come you can eat real food?” she asked a little while later, looking at him over the rim of her wineglass. David cut into his steak efficiently. “Well, I don’t have to. I can survive without regular food. Or drink for that matter,” he added, glancing at his own wineglass. “I like to eat.” He forked a piece of steak into his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. “Especially bananas. They’re my favorite.” “So I’ve noticed.” He grinned in acknowledgement. “Technically, I’m dead, but my body still functions. I produce heat when I want to. Energy, saliva,” he added, flashed her a naughty look, picked up her hand, and sucked the tip of her finger into the warm wetness of his mouth. After a moment, he released her with a soft kiss. “My cells renew themselves like everybody else’s, and they need fuel to do that. Although, I’m more of what you’d call a modern vampire. I get a lot of my energy from real food, not blood. I’m not much of a traditionalist.” She felt her brow furrow as she considered his words. “This is delicious by the way,” David said, changing the subject. “What’s for dessert?” The corners of his eyes creased when he smiled at her. The way he looked at her made her feel sexy, and her boobs got all perky with anticipation. After forking the last of his steak and potato into his mouth, he inhaled deliberately. “God, I love the smell of your arousal,” he groaned, chewed fast, swallowed, and reached across the table for her.

His cell rang. “Damn,” he muttered and yanked it off his belt. “What?” he snarled. Charlotte had never seen David’s eyes grow cold. He sat very still, listening. She saw the tension in his shoulders, heard the quiet grinding of his teeth. “I’m leaving now,” he said just before he hit the End button. His expression was unreadable as he looked at her. “That was Neil Laird.” “The fellow from the lumber supply yard?” David nodded curtly. “What’s wrong?” she blurted out when he remained silent. “Their son needs my help.” Without asking, remembering what he’d said about the symbiotic relationship he had with the town, she grabbed their empty plates off the table and threw them into the sink. “Is there anything I can do?” she asked. “No,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “But perhaps you should come and see what you’ll be getting yourself into if you stay with me.”

****

A little while later, they were sitting side by side on a sofa inside a small, neat bungalow. “Keith was over there today, scraping the hull on an old sailboat.” The speaker was about fiveten. Neil Laird’s wiry form paced the room as he distractedly ran his fingers through his hair. “Jobs are scarce, especially for young people, so when this fella said he had some odd jobs needed doing around his place, Keith jumped at the chance.” Keith Laird was ten, although he looked a year younger. He was skinny like his dad and had the same brown hair and eyes. His mother, sitting in a chair on the other side of the room and looking angry enough to chew iron, was a tiny thing with dark brown hair and blue, red-rimmed eyes. Neil continued. “They met because this fella’s got a son about his age.” “Tell me what happened, Keith,” David prompted gently. “And remember you didn’t do anything wrong.”

The lanky ten-year-old leaned forward in his chair. He was pale, but Charlotte figured that was because he was nervous, even scared. “My dad dropped me off at Mr. Claremont’s cottage on his way into work,” Keith said. His voice was shaky and still high-pitched. “They bought the place just last summer. He told me his kids weren’t interested in earning a few extra dollars by helping him out. Said he had a hull that needed refinishing and wanted some help around the yard.” The boy shrugged and wrung his oversized hands. “It was okay. Mrs. Claremont made us lunch—us and their two kids. “That afternoon, Mr. Claremont, he said we should take a break. I wanted to hang out with his kids. They were messing around on their Jet Skis,” Keith added and stared at his feet. “But Mr. Claremont said he had some business to take care of and I should come inside out of the sun for a while. So we went into his office, and he had some games loaded on his computer. I played them for a while. Mrs. Claremont brought us some lemonade…” His voice trailed off and he took a breath. “I know I shouldn’t have looked, but Mr. Claremont showed me some pictures on his computer. Naked ladies,” he added quietly, turned red, and shot his mother an apologetic look. Neil Laird walked up to his son, hugged him, and squeezed his shoulder. “My son’s a smart boy. Brave, too. He told us what happened after he got home. That’s when we decided to call you,” Neil said and looked at David. Charlotte felt the man beside her straighten, then stand. “Let’s pay this Mr. Claremont a visit.”

****

The air felt damp and cool, and Charlotte shivered. She and the Lairds were standing beneath some trees skirting the Claremonts’ property, right where David had left them. The darkness and the mist floating over the lake made it feel even colder. The Claremonts’ place was an overblown, prowfronted monstrosity perched on a point of land. From the looks of it, they’d spent more on landscaping than she had on her entire pre-fab. The four of them watched David walk up to the door and knock. Looking in through the wall of windows, they saw a woman get up to answer. “Who the hell can that be?” a man inside barked. At the sound of the voice, Keith Laird inhaled sharply, and when Charlotte glanced down at him, he was shaking and reaching for his parents’ hands.

“Max Claremont?” David said and gave Mrs. Claremont a blinding smile. “I’m David Hadfield of Hadfield Construction. You remember putting your card in for a draw down at the hardware store?” He pressed on without waiting for an answer. “Congratulations. You won third prize. A thousand dollars worth of free renovations by my company. May I come in?” “Yeah. Sure.” Max Claremont stood and waved him in. “I’m always entering those things. About time I won something,” he added with a satisfied smirk. Max Claremont was around fifty. You could see he’d been athletic in his youth but was more paunch than muscle now. Just under six feet, he had gray hair and flashy rings on his fat, smooth fingers. As soon as he was inside and the door was closed behind him, David dropped all pretense of civility. “You asked Keith Laird into your office today, Max. There, you showed him online porn.” “Now just a minute,” Max barked and closed in on David. “My kids are upstairs sleeping. How dare you—” “How dare I?” David asked incredulously. “How dare you, sir.” He grabbed the hand that was trying to shove him back out the door. Max howled and dropped to one knee when David flipped the man’s wrist around, twisted it hard enough to almost break. “You fucking bastard. Myra, call the cops.” “Yes, please do, Mrs. Claremont,” David said evenly. “And while we’re waiting, let’s take a look at your husband’s browsing history. See just when he was surfing those porn sites. My guess is it’ll be around quarter to three. That’s the time Keith was in there with him, wasn’t it?” He looked at her long and hard, and she wilted visibly. “That’s after you brought them lemonade. Am I correct?” She nodded dumbly. “Myra,” her husband shouted, and she cowered. David grabbed his arm and hoisted him to his feet. “I’ve met men like you, Mr. Claremont. These days, they call you situational offenders. In my time, the term was coarser.” Through the glass, the people outside watched them move from the cavernous main room to a smaller side room with a sliding patio door. A light flicked on inside, illuminating a well-furnished home office. David continued. “You’re skilled manipulators. You gain a child’s trust and understanding by paying attention to them, giving them things, sharing forbidden inducements like toys, cigarettes, alcohol, pictures of naked women.” “Get off the tangent and your high horse, fella,” Max barked. “Some hillbilly jerk kid I was nice enough to mentor and throw a little work his way used my computer to surf porn while he was here.”

Even from a distance, Charlotte could see the suspicion on the wife’s face when she looked at her husband. “Not unless you gave him your passwords,” David snarled and shoved Max into his chair. “Power it up. Now.” “Fuck. You.” Max spun his chair around and glared up at David. “I’ve had enough.” David stood where he was while Max jumped out of his chair, ran over to a cabinet, and pulled out a hunting rifle. “Max,” Mrs. Claremont screamed. “I told you to call the cops,” Max yelled and fired. The scream hadn’t even formed in Charlotte’s throat when she saw a blur of movement. Somehow, David had dodged the bullet. The rifle was in his hands and the barrel snapped away from the chamber with a sharp, metallic crack. He dropped what was left of the rifle, grabbed Max by the throat, and proceeded to walk up the wall. “Sick bastards like you,” David said in an ominously calm voice, “groom children. You coax a child to go along with your requests peacefully.” Max Claremont’s flabby body hung at a drunken angle before his feet rose off the floor. He hit David’s arms, clung to his hands. His face turned red, then purple. Mrs. Claremont collapsed against the door frame, stared, shook. Sweat plastered her pale, styled hair to her neck. Effortlessly, David walked up the wall, across the ceiling, and back down the opposite wall. It was surreal watching Max’ body flail and shift with the changing pull of gravity. Charlotte was mesmerized by the grotesque ballet of it. When David’s feet were again on the floor, he dragged Max back to his chair, hoisted him into it, leaned over him, and dragged his teeth across Max’s throat. Max screamed. Two distinct red lines appeared as blood pitted the surface of his skin. David straightened, took a step back, and folded his arms across his chest. “Log on. Now,” he said, almost too quietly for Charlotte to hear. Charlotte wasn’t sure if Max was shaking hard or having a convulsion, but it was obvious he was trying to open up his web browser. Judging by the number of times he had to use his keyboard, she realized access to his computer was password protected on more than one level. David grabbed the mouse, gave it a few deft flicks, then jabbed a finger at the screen.

“Quarter to three. Boobage Babes Wrestling dot net.” It sounded like David was speaking for Mrs. Claremont’s benefit more than anyone else’s. He spun Max around in his chair to face him. “You’re moving. Tonight.” “Wh—” “Tonight,” David repeated harshly, dragged his fingernails across the fresh scratches on Max’ throat, and made a show of licking the blood off his fingers. Mrs. Claremont howled with fear. “You’re selling this place and never coming back.” He turned to Max’ wife. “Unless you want to divorce him, of course. You and your children are welcome here. But he’s gone. Questions?”

Chapter Eight

Nobody said anything during the drive back to the Lairds’. Standing on their porch, David shook Neil Laird’s hand. “I’ll make a call,” David said and returned Molly Laird’s fierce hug. “I’ll have a couple of friends drive by and make sure they’re leaving. Trail them for a while to make sure.” “We owe you, David. Big,” Neil said, and his voice shook with emotion. “And the day will come when I need something from you,” David replied. “If you’re willing.” They swallowed but nodded in agreement. Standing between his parents, Keith trembled and, hesitantly, offered his hand to David. “M–my dad says you’re a vampire,” Keith said quietly. “What—” “Shh,” David murmured, smiled, and moved his free hand subtly. “Remember only that Mr. Claremont showed you inappropriate pictures, Keith.” His voice was quiet, hypnotic. “Remember only

that your father and I spoke to him, confronted him, threatened him with exposure. Don’t remember how it happened. Remember you were brave, did the right thing, and you’re safe.” Keith’s brown eyes were wide, fixed on David’s, and glassy. He nodded. “Do not remember I’m a vampire. Someday you will remember, Keith. When you’re old enough and when and if you need to. For now, good night.” David moved his hand again and stepped back. Focus returned to Keith’s eyes. “Sleep well,” David added, nodded to Keith’s parents, took Charlotte’s hand, and led her back to his truck.

****

“So what happens now?” Charlotte asked nervously after she dropped her keys on the counter in her trailer. “Did that family just become donors? Did that boy?” “Someday perhaps,” David answered tiredly and locked the door behind him. He cupped Orrin’s cheek and stroked it. “Someday the boy may become one of many who contribute an ounce or two of blood to me at a time. But not until he’s fully grown and only if he’s willing.” He gave her a thin smile. “When he’s old enough to decide, his full memory of this evening will return to him.” She stared at him, not sure she believed the magnitude of what she’d witnessed. “Well, I did say my powers were impressive,” David added with an unapologetic shrug. “They have grown with age. And I would feed from him, especially now that I no longer share my sexuality with anyone but you.” “Feed from,” she repeated and felt the blood drain from her face. “David, I can’t do that,” she whispered harshly. “I, I love you, but I can’t live like that.” Walking over to a recliner, she sat down heavily. “You know you can feed from me,” David countered gently. “At least in the beginning. After a while, the idea of feeding from a human becomes…pleasurable. Even when it is not sexual.” Sighing dismissively, she rubbed her forehead. “Perhaps I’m a product of my times, too. I don’t want to live forever. Not like that. Even if it means spending forever with you.” David’s jaw twitched. His shimmering blue eyes darkened, then paled. His tall, powerful body seemed to slump, diminish. It was a long time before he spoke. “You’ve seen what I am. What I do. Even

though it keeps this community, these people safe, being a vigilante is ugly.” He was so still, she wasn’t sure he was breathing. He probably wasn’t. “Will you stay with me?” he asked quietly. “For now?” “Yes.” “I cannot give you children. You’d have to live without that.” The corners of her mouth turned up in an odd little smile. “I don’t want any. Not really. Do you think that’s unnatural?” “No,” he answered and shook his head. “I think it’s something you’ve put a lot of thought into.” “It helps that I don’t have family pressuring me.” “I won’t pressure you,” David assured her with quiet fervor. He knelt in front of her, caressed her arms, and stroked her cheek. “The pain of my children’s death lives in me. I would not wish that on anyone.”

****

“So I was thinking.” Eva Duke flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder, gave her exposed cleavage a quick glance, then turned her wide blue eyes back up to David. “We should go somewhere for the long weekend. I know we’ve never done anything like that before, but the last couple of times you’ve fed from me, you’ve been…distant.” “Watch out for the table saw,” David warned her and dropped his hammer into the loop on his tool belt. “Jeez, Eva, didn’t your daddy ever tell you about wearing open-toed shoes on a construction site? Go stand over there,” he pointed, “away from the cutting stuff.” The finish-carpentry crew he’d hired to frame Charlotte’s windows were eyeing Eva’s long legs, revealed beneath the very short skirt she was almost wearing. He shot them a look, which they openly ignored, took Eva’s elbow, and maneuvered her out of the house. Heaven only knew how she’d managed to climb up the temporary ramp outside, but when she held out her hands, he rolled his eyes, grabbed her waist, and carried her down to ground level. That was a mistake because once she had her arms around him, she wasn’t in any hurry to let go. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her round, firm, and very fake breasts into his chest. They’d been her not-so-little present to herself two Christmases ago. “I think you’re working too hard,” she cooed into his ear and dragged her teeth over it.

That was the first time he hadn’t got hard when she did that. She slid her thigh across his groin, then looked at him in disbelief. “Oh baby, you’ve definitely been working too hard.” “Stop. Stop it,” David repeated firmly. He used his strength to push her away and set her on her feet. “I’m not a toy, and this isn’t a game, Eva.” The way she batted her eyes, again, told him she didn’t believe him. Why should she? She’d been a kid all those years ago when he’d dissuaded a fixated tourist from coming after her father with an axe when Eva’s dad had spurned her affections. After having a summer-long affair with her. He grabbed Eva’s wrist, dragged her back up the driveway, and ignored her whining about what the gravel was doing to her heels. Halfway up, he stopped and turned to her. “I’ve never misled you. Never lied to you, so you knew from day one what our relationship was.” “Hmm. I do know.” She ran her manicured nails down his chest before he pushed her hand away. “Hot vamp sex. Nobody turns me on like you. That’s why we should go away. Spend a little…quality time together.” “No,” David barked down at her and, for an instant, fear clouded her eyes. “I’m way too old for this shit,” he muttered and ran his fingers through his hair. “Look, there’s no way for me to say this that won’t hurt you. I’m seeing Charlotte. We’ve been together for almost a month now.” “Charlotte? Charlotte Allen?” Eva barked. “The old chick with the big butt?” He felt his expression harden. “I happen to love her ass. Every soft, warm, curvy inch of it, so that’s the last time I want to hear you insult her. Understand, little girl?” Stepping forward, he made her back away from him, then back away again. “I like you, Eva, you and your family, but bottom line…you’re sustenance. If I were you, I’d stop trying to piss me off. You don’t want to be around me when I’m pissed off.” His jaw ached with the slow, grinding descent of his canines. He felt the heat in his eyes, the predatory gleam that overrode their natural blue when he was pushed. Eva gasped, took another unsteady step backward, and her fluttering hand came up. David continued in that same cold, deep voice. “Get out of here before you’re late for work. And put on some clothes. You look cheap dressed like that.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed back to the house. A minute later, Charlotte looked out her kitchen window when the sound of a revving engine and spinning gravel caught her ear. She didn’t recognize the sporty little red car peeling out her driveway and had forgotten all about it by mid-morning.

****

“What can I do for you today?” Eva’s smile became genuine when she looked at the tall man stepping up to her wicket. “You’ve just done it,” he said, grinned, and handed her a banking card. “And how’s that?” she asked and swiped his card. “Made my day by sharing that smile with me.” He was handsome, had stunning blue eyes, and the cut of his black hair and clothes looked expensive. “I’d also like eight thousand dollars transferred from my savings into my checking account. Please,” he asked, flashed her another smile, and set his wide-brimmed hat on the counter while he watched her hit a few keystrokes. “If you want to save a few minutes next time,” Eva said as she worked, “Mr. Grant,” she added, glancing at the screen, then back at him, “you could transfer the money using one of our automated teller machines.” “I was going to do that,” he admitted, “but I’m new here and I felt like talking to a real person. Luckily, I met you. And call me Karlis. I know the account’s under the name Steven, but Karlis is my middle name.” “Ah,” she said almost absently and handed him a slip to sign. She took it back from him with only a perfunctory comparison of his signature to the one on his card. “So do you have plans for dinner, Miss…Duke?” he said after glancing at her name badge and the chest it was sitting on. “No.” Eva answered a little too quickly. “I had an argument with my boyfriend this morning, so I’ve got no plans at all.” She looked at her customer’s manicured nails, the breadth of his shoulders, his handsome face one more time, and smiled. “None whatsoever.” “Perfect. Can I pick you up after work? There’s a nice little steak place down in Bancroft. It’s a bit of a drive, but I’d enjoy the opportunity to talk to you. Would that be okay?” “Okay,” Eva answered, flicked her hair back, and batted her eyes.

****

The restaurant was cozy, dimly lit, and the early crowd—the one with kids—was long gone. “So this boyfriend of yours,” Karlis prompted after their waitress took away their dinner plates. “What kind of an idiot would argue with a woman like you?” Eva smiled, and it said how pleased she was by his compliment. “He’s got a crush on this older woman. Personally, I think he’s playing up to her because she’s his client and he’s thinking with his wallet instead of his head. He’ll get over it, but in the meantime—” “In the meantime, he’s hurting you. Stupid ass.” “Yeah. Stupid ass,” Eva huffed and sipped her wine. “I could tell you things about him though. Things you wouldn’t believe.” “Like?” “Well…” She lowered her voice, glanced around, and leaned closer. “He thinks he’s a vampire.” Karlis’ brow furrowed. “I’m serious,” Eva continued. “Really he’s a Goth freak who’s into blood play. His name is David Hadfield, and if you’re going to stick around here, I’d suggest you have nothing to do with him or his company. The bank might even shut down his accounts,” she added in a conspiratorial whisper. “I know I’m being harsh on him, after dating him and all, but now we’re not together, I’m seeing things clearer, you know? I’m thinking it might not be a bad thing if I let people know what a freak he really is.” “Oh, I don’t think that’s harsh at all. I know what you mean about being able to see people clearly after you’ve broken up. Thanks for the warning.” They leaned away from each other when dessert arrived. Karlis had insisted they share a molten chocolate cake, and Eva rolled her eyes back and sighed voluptuously when he fed her the first piece. He set the fork down and slipped his hand between her legs. When he pressed her pantycovered clit, she started. “Chew slowly, Eva,” he said, and his voice was dark and rich like the chocolate, commanding and sultry at the same time. “Swallow.” He pressed harder and moved his fingertip in a slow, tight circle. “Take another bite. Chew.” Still pressing, still smiling, there was a long interval before his next order. “Swallow.” He flicked his fingernail against her clit and grinned when she jumped. “Easy does it.” No one was sitting close enough to them to notice her glazed eyes, the sheen of perspiration on her forehead. Rubbing her harder, he smiled. “Take another forkful. Chew. Don’t make a sound.”

Her panting stopped. “Swallow. Come,” he added with a harsh whisper, grated his fingernails across her pussy, and grinned ferally when her thighs started to shake and her eyes squeezed shut. Sliding his hands out from between her legs, Karlis offered her a glass of water and leaned back. “Wow,” Eva gasped after a moment, then touched her napkin to her mouth. “This is the best first date I’ve ever been on.” Chuckling, Karlis signaled the waiter and asked for the check. On the drive back, enveloped by the deep, throaty rumble of the engine, Eva settled into the luxurious leather upholstery of Karlis’ car. Her brow arched and she gave him a wry look when he turned onto a side road and switched off the ignition once they were out of sight of the highway. He undid his seat belt and hers. “Take off your clothes.” “Pardon?” “Oh, I think you heard me,” he purred, caressed her cheek, and flashed her a sexy grin. “You’ve got a beautiful body. I want to see it. All of it. Now.” Eva’s brow was still curved up, but so were the corners of her mouth. Slowly, as if offering him a tease, she started by taking off her shirt, bra, and finished by toeing off her shoes as she slipped her skirt and panties off. By then, Karlis had his shirt off and his pants unzipped. In the moonlight, his pale cock bobbed heavily before he lifted it to her. “Suck it, lover. Show me what you’ve got.” He held her hair back and sighed when she parted her painted lips and slid them down the shaft. Keeping her in place, controlling her movements with the pressure of his hand, Karlis lifted his hips, let them settle back, and murmured dirty things to her in the dark. When he was fully erect, he pulled her off him and kissed her, hard. Eva moaned and fisted his hair. “Now climb on and fuck me,” Karlis ordered in that rich, sultry tone. Reaching between his seat and the door, he manipulated a few controls, slid his seat further back, and tipped the steering wheel out of the way. Nodding and licking her lips, Eva retrieved her purse, fished out a condom, and set the package on the dash. She seemed to take her time maneuvering over the stick shift and other obstacles before settling her knees on either side of his hips. Karlis stroked her thighs, her waist, held the tip of his cock to her, and rubbed her slit with it. Reaching behind her, she picked up the condom and set the corner between her teeth.

“You won’t need that,” he said, held her firmly, and pulled her down onto his shaft so hard, Eva groaned. “Stop,” she barked and tried to push away. “Are you crazy?” Karlis chuckled around the nipple he’d just taken into his mouth before he started sucking on it. He released it with a loud pop. “A little. And I’m not the only one with a secret.” His lips pulled back, revealing his long, bone-white canines. This time when he bit down on Eva’s breast, she screamed. She bucked against him, hard, fucking him with all the strength she had as he drank.

****

“Hadfield Construction. David speaking.” He put down his finishing square and held his iPhone to his ear. “Hi, Bruce, what’s…” His eyes darkened as he listened to Maggie’s husband. As soon as he got off the phone, he got into his truck and headed for town.

****

“So what’s this I hear about you yanking my business license?” he said calmly, almost conversationally as he burst into the district planning commissioner’s office about a half hour later. “Jeez, David,” the older man behind the desk wheezed. “Give a guy some warning. You almost gave me a coronary. Sit down. I was going to call you anyway.” “Glad I saved you some time.” “Before we get started, no, nobody’s pulling your license. We couldn’t even if we wanted to. We’re local government, and business licenses are issued by the province. That’s just one of a couple of rumors circulating around town the past few days.” “Couple of rumors?” David asked and his voice had a hard edge to it. “Yeah. I’m thinking you must have pissed somebody off. Somebody’s been putting it out there your business isn’t as solid as everybody thinks, the bank might be forced to close out your accounts, and you’re a freak between the sheets.”

“The bank, huh?” David said, and his mouth thinned. “Would those rumors have anything to do with two customers I had lined up for next spring backing out on me?” “Might be. I only know I need you to get to the bottom of this. What you do between the sheets is none of my business, but having you around here is a godsend. That’s what my great-grandfather told me years ago, and I still believe it. I also believe the relationship you’ve got with this place works because you’re so secretive. Somebody’s working real hard to expose you. Embarrass you at the very least.” David nodded slowly. “I might have an idea who.”

****

“What do you want?” Eva sounded bored when she returned David’s voice mail later that day. “I want to talk to you.” “Oh, so now you want to talk to me? What, your new girlfriend’s taking her daily nap, so you had some free time to kill?” “I swear, Eva, if you don’t—” “Oh, and by the way I’m seeing somebody new. He’s not afraid to be seen in public with me. He takes me places, talks to me, and he’s a hell of a lot more inventive in bed than you.” “How nice for you,” David deadpanned. “I’ll meet you at your place after you finish work.” “What if I’m busy?” “Be there,” David growled and hit End.

****

He smelled the lingering traces of another vampire as soon as Eva opened her door for him. “Where is he?” David barked and barged in.

“That’s a nice way to say hello. Hey,” she yelped when David grabbed her arm, lifted her hair, turned her, and examined her exposed skin. He kicked the door shut before he yanked up her sweater and lifted her breasts out of her bra—no easy feat considering their size. His expression darkened when he ran his thumb over the tiny bumps all over her. “Hmm,” she purred. “Now that’s how to say hello.” She pressed her breasts into his hand. “I’m sorry about that other guy. You just made me so crazy I wanted to get back at you.” “Nice try, but it’s a little more complicated than that,” David said, pulled her sweater back down, and stepped away from her. “This new guy’s another vamp, right?” “Um, yeah.” “Did you find him, or did he find you?” “Well, a bit of both actually. I was working, and he walked in and—” “So he found you. After I specifically asked him not to feed in this area,” David added, more for his benefit than hers. “What name did he use?” “What name? Hmmph. Paranoid much? As you probably already know, his name is Steven Grant and—” “And let me guess. His nickname is Karlis.” “His middle name is Karlis,” Eva corrected him haughtily, unsnapped her bra, pulled it out from beneath her sweater, and pulled her shoulders back so her nipples sat up and stared at him. “And did you check his personal information? Make sure his signature matched?” Eva blinked. “Well, of course…I mean, I always…” Her voice dried up. “Do us both a favor. First thing tomorrow morning, pull up his date of birth and address. I’ve got a hunch the real Steven Grant is probably from Ottawa, is a lot older than Karlis looks, and I’d bet the car Karlis is driving was signed over to him by Steven Grant no more than a week ago.” David turned away but paused with his hand on the doorknob. “And if he gets in touch with you before tomorrow, call me. Oh, and stop telling everybody in town I’m a vampire.”

****

Later that evening, when David stepped out of the shower in Charlotte’s trailer, she was standing there with a towel in her hand. “Okay. Out with it,” she prompted gently and reached up to dry his hair. “You were quiet all through dinner, and I could hear the wheels in your head turning from the other room.” “Hmmph. I never used to be this obvious,” he groused and leaned forward to make it easier for her to reach. “Some trouble with Eva. Seems she’s more than a little fixated on me. She didn’t take it well when I told her you and I were together.” “You told her, huh?” “I told them all. Only one tried to out me. The rest of the women are cool with it. Happy for me, actually. Happy for us,” he added with a grin. “Wait, Eva tried to expose you?” “Hell yes,” David grunted. “She’s been spreading all kinds of rumors around town, telling everybody I’m kinky and on the verge of personal and professional ruin. I lost two customers because of her.” “Is there anything you can do?” “Ahh,” David said dismissively and waved his hand curtly. “I’ll find other customers. Besides, it might be nice to have some time to spend with you next spring.” He turned around and sighed when she rubbed his back with the towel. “We can take a trip. You, me, and Orrin.” “Sounds good, but stop trying to change the subject.” “Okay, so she might have hinted I was into blood play. That I thought I was a vampire or something. Imagine that.” “Yeah. Imagine that,” Charlotte repeated, and her mouth flattened. “Will anybody believe her?” “Sure they will.” He shrugged. “There’s a lot of folk around here who don’t have a clue what I am. They’ll have a good ol’ chuckle behind their hands, then write off the rumors as the venting of a jealous lover. Either that or women will start calling me up for dates.” Charlotte yanked the towel back, rolled it, and flicked the corner against his backside. David yelped obligingly. “I’d turn them down.” He laughed, grabbed the towel out of her hands, and, looping it around her, used it to pull her into his wet body. She squirmed, protested, slapped his shoulder, but relented when he brushed his mouth over hers.

****

“David?” “What’s wrong?” he asked as soon as he heard Charlotte’s voice over his cell. Her voice was pinched, pitched higher than normal. It was Friday afternoon, and he’d been thinking about knocking off work early and surprising her with some flowers. Maybe some body oil. All thoughts of that flew out of his head. “Maybe nothing. I’m in town.” He knew that. She’d left an hour or so ago to pick up some groceries, run some errands. “I’m parked behind the bank and I just saw Eva walk out. She’s, she’s really pale.” A hundred nasty possibilities ran through David’s mind as he waited for her to continue. “She seemed a little, I don’t know, a little blank. Except when somebody called out hi to her. She seemed normal for a minute, but then…” Charlotte took a breath. “Karlis was here, too. Sitting in his car on the far side of the lot, watching her.” “Did he see you?” “No. I walked in from the other lot over. But he looked at her, and she looked at him like she recognized him, checked to see nobody was looking, got in her car, and drove away. He drove out right after her.” “Which way?” “West.” “They’re probably heading to her place. Stay right where you are, baby. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.” “Okay. But does Eva always carry such a huge shoulder bag to work?” David jammed the phone back into its case without answering and ran to his truck.

****

He turned off the ignition and let the big pickup coast to a stop before he reached Eva’s driveway. She had a little place just outside of town. The isolation hadn’t bothered her, he remembered her saying, and the price had been right. “Wait here,” he whispered to Charlotte before he opened the door. “Wait?” she hissed back. “Why’d you bother bringing me?” “Because I don’t trust that guy,” David said, pointing to the bumper of Karlis’s car. It was all that was visible between the trees around Eva’s place. “And if he’s anywhere around, I want you close to me.” Charlotte nodded grudgingly, and David figured that was the best he was going to get for now. He got out and hurried up to the house. Sniffing the air, he skirted the front porch. He’d rebuilt it for Eva a couple of seasons back and hadn’t charged her for it. That or the new wiring he’d put in and the updated cabinet doors in her kitchen. Maybe he should have. It would have kept their relationship more…professional. His canines descended when he picked up Karlis’ scent. He peeked in a side window, into her living room. Out in the truck, Charlotte yelped. She grabbed the door handle when she saw David leap off the ground and dive through a window. As she ran toward the house, she heard growling, snarling like two animals were fighting, things smashing inside. She ran faster. The front door opened when she tried it. That surprised her. Who in their right mind didn’t lock…? That thought died when she ran inside. David and Karlis were grappling. Fingernails were shredding clothing, tearing the flesh beneath. There were a series of gashes across David’s abdomen, even more down Karlis’ arms. Eva was slumped against a sofa, naked. Whimpering, she clutched a jagged wound on her throat. Thin rivulets of blood dripped down her chest. Jumping out of the way when the two men got too close, Charlotte ran over to Eva, grabbed her arm, and dragged her into the nearest corner. Eva seemed too weak to walk. Turning back when she heard a terrible scream, she saw David punch a broken table leg into Karlis’ chest. She gagged but didn’t vomit. “Charlotte,” David yelled. “Help me.” She was on her feet and running for him before she had time to think about it. “Hold this,” he said, took her hand, and wrapped it around the wood. “Don’t let him pull it out. Sit on him. Sit,” he repeated harshly, lifted her butt, and planted it squarely on Karlis’ stomach. He ran into the next room. “No, no, no!” Charlotte screeched when Karlis twisted, grabbed for the table leg, tried to buck her off. She slapped his hand away and wondered why he was so weak. Oh. Yeah. The guy had a stake

through him. Before David grabbed her, she’d also noticed Karlis’ fly was undone and his flaccid cock was hanging out. It was ridiculous, but she was more worried about almost sitting on a stranger’s penis than she was about the fact a flimsy piece of wood was the only thing between her and a killer vampire. When David came racing back, he was holding a big kitchen knife. “Out of the way, baby,” he bellowed, grabbed Karlis’ jaw, tipped it back, and slammed the point of the knife into the floor beside the other vampire’s neck. Crab-walking back, Charlotte gagged, then screamed when the knife tip scored the flooring in a deliberate, straight line, moving as easy and clean as if the pine were butter. Like her, Karlis screamed when the blade sliced into his neck. His scream stopped when the blade was neatly pulled all the way through. She stared at the knife, still with the point embedded in the floor, now sitting on the other side of Karlis’ neck. When David let go and stood up, Karlis’ head rolled to one side, away from his body. “David,” she cried when he flew at Eva, picked her up, and covered her throat with his mouth. “Oh god,” she added when she saw him lick the jagged tears in Eva’s throat, stem the flow of her blood, and keep licking until the tears were thin, shiny pink lines on Eva’s unnaturally pale skin. He laid Eva back down on the floor. “Next time you want something around here fixed, call somebody else,” he said and turned back to Charlotte. “The phone’s over there. Dial 911. Don’t say anything. Just leave the phone off the hook.” Nodding shakily, Charlotte did as he asked. When she set the receiver down on the table, she noticed Eva’s oversized handbag sitting on the sofa. Saw the neat bundles of cash spilling out of it. “David,” she whispered and pointed. He walked over to the bag and frowned. “Figured it might have been something like that,” he whispered and aimed a kick at Karlis’ lifeless body. “Asshole,” he hissed and marched out of the room. He came back with a bedspread, dumped Karlis and his head onto it, retrieved the knife, wiped the hilt clean, then closed Karlis’ fingers around it. “Fingerprints,” he whispered unnecessarily. “Wipe down the phone and the doorknob,” he added, carefully set the knife back down, bundled Karlis up in the bedspread, hoisted it over his shoulder, and headed for the door. “Thanks,” he mouthed when Charlotte toed some debris out of his way. Outside, he pulled out his iPhone with his free hand. “Bill? Your daughter’s in a shit-load of trouble out here. You and your wife get over to her place, pronto. When the fire department shows up, tell them you were the ones who called 911. Oh, and Bill, I never called you.” David ended the call, shoved his phone back into its holder, grabbed a shovel out of Eva’s toolshed, and headed for the woods. “Go wait in the car, baby. You don’t need to see this. I’ll be back in about five minutes.” “Do we have that much time? Won’t you need—”

Turning back to her, he nodded in the direction of his pickup. “We’ve got time,” he assured her quietly, then ran into the woods so quickly Charlotte’s eyes couldn’t track him.

****

Late that night, David was in the midst of a conference call with the bank manager, a friend who worked for the provincial police, and Eva’s father. When Charlotte brought him a cup of tea, he pulled her onto his lap, looped an arm around her waist, inhaled the scent of her hair, and put his phone on speaker. His hair was still damp from showering. He’d washed off the dirt and blood. His clothes and hers were in the washing machine. “We’ve retrieved all the money she stole,” a man was saying. “It’s back where it belongs. That’s the good news. We haven’t decided if we’re going to press charges. For now, it’s been classified as a domestic assault, and the police are looking into this new boyfriend of hers. His fingerprints identify him as Karlis Kassinger. Came into the country under false identification, so we may never know who he really was.” Another voice took over. “Steven Grant is a retired businessman in Ottawa. Seems this Kassinger character may have conned him out of some money and a car. The guy seems pretty confused about the whole thing. Bemused, if you catch my drift,” the man added and there was a pause in the conversation. David said, “So does it appear Kassinger took off when Eva’s parents arrived unexpectedly?” He kissed Charlotte’s head and breathed her in again. “Um, yeah,” somebody responded. “Yeah, we’ll probably find his car abandoned somewhere. We’ll issue a warrant for him, but given the sketchy details we have, it’s unlikely he’ll, um, turn up.” “Yeah. Unlikely,” David said. “What about Eva?” “She stole from the bank.” “She was compelled.” Two of the men on the line sighed loudly. “Maybe we’ll look into having her transferred. Saskatoon should be far enough,” one of them suggested wryly. “Let’s talk about that later.” “Agreed. Good night, gentlemen. And thank you,” David said and ended the call. He wrapped his arms around Charlotte and hugged her tight. “Re-thinking your decision about staying with me?” When she didn’t answer, he squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t say something like this will never happen again. There are other vamps out there. Not many but some. Like everybody else, some are nice, some are parasites. I’m sorry you saw what you did, but it’s part of the reality of who I am. What I am.”

“You’re a killer,” she said quietly. “But you’re not Karlis. Seeing him…I think I see what you could be. If you let yourself.” David’s mouth thinned but he nodded. “Yes,” he replied just as quietly, tipped his head so he could kiss her forehead. “The only things Karlis loved were the opportunities that came along with being a vampire. I love you. I hope to God that’s enough.”

****

Charlotte got up from her desk when she heard a car pull up outside. Even though it was Saturday, David was down at the building site, putting cedar siding on their house. She grinned when she thought about the place as theirs, opened the door when someone knocked, and stared at the man on the other side of the screen. “Len,” she blurted out. “Hi, Char,” her ex said and held out a broad, rectangular package. “Thought I’d save you a trip down to the city.” He grinned at her and she saw the old Len in his smile, the one that had fascinated and charmed her. She accepted the package, held the door open, and stepped back. “Um, thanks. The watercolor?” she asked when she felt the weight of the thing in her hand. “Sure is. And just as beautiful as the day you bought it. It’ll look great in this setting,” he said as he stepped inside and looked out the window at the forest surrounding them. “I’m sorry I cheated you out of it,” he added quietly. Charlotte blinked. He sounded so sincere she believed him. “I’ll, er, make some fresh coffee.” “That’d be great.” He sat down at her table and watched her happily. She found that extraordinarily freaky. “So how’s the work going? I see you’ve got a new release due out for Christmas. Your fans will be happy.” They talked about her work. About the area and her plans to buy a little boat. He talked about his work, told her a funny story, and made her laugh. The stiffness of their earlier conversations was missing this time.

“You really are better,” she said finally, offered him a refill, and put out some cookies. “More…spontaneous. You seem happier.” “I feel happier. I thought I was nuts for going to a therapist, but he’s helped. Nobody’s responsible for my outlook except me. It’s not easy, and I start to feel depressed when I’m by myself, but work helps. I’ve joined a gym, and I’m thinking of taking up hockey again in the fall.” “You always liked playing hockey,” she recalled and offered him a smile. Len nodded and bit into one of her cookies. “Hmm. Good. I’d forgotten how good your baking was. Seems I forgot a lot of things the last year we were together.” “Len, I…” she tried to head him off when she realized what direction the conversation was heading. She was interrupted when the door opened. David and Orrin stepped inside. “Hi,” he said and one pale brow rose slightly. “Didn’t realize you had company.” He toed off his boots. Well, that was a big fat lie. She knew just how good his hearing was. He’d probably heard Len pull up, waited to see if he was going to leave right away, and when he didn’t, had likely decided to check out the, er, competition. “David, this is Len. My ex-husband,” she said. “Len, this is David. My boyfriend.” Len blinked but stood and held out his hand. To his credit, Len didn’t devolve the handshake into a strength match. Her ex was a good-looking guy, but he looked dowdy next to David. Small somehow. Orrin waddled over to their visitor, gave him a sniff, accepted a quick pat on the head, then nosed around his empty food bowl. “Just came up for a refill,” David said brightly when he stepped back. He held up the thermos he was carrying and walked over to the coffeemaker. “Is that the St. Lawrence watercolor?” he asked, nodding in the direction of the now unwrapped picture, propped up in Charlotte’s favorite recliner. After filling his thermos, he added a touch of milk, closed it up, and started pulling his boots back on. “You’re right, Charlotte. It’ll look great at the end of the bedroom hallway. Why don’t you bring Len down later? He might like to look around the place.” He turned back to Len. “We just put a dock in last week and the view over the lake down there’s terrific.” Len’s back stiffened visibly at David’s use of the word we. With his hand on the door, David continued. “Thanks for giving the picture back to her. She’s been talking about it all week. It means a lot to her,” he added with unaffected sincerity, motioned to Orrin to follow him, picked up his thermos, nodded good-bye, and left.

Len glared at the closed door before sitting back down at the table. He bit into another one of Charlotte’s cookies and chewed like he wasn’t tasting it. “That his dog?” “Mine. Ours,” she corrected herself without apology. “I got Orrin just after Mom died. He likes trailing after David more than lying around here while I work.” Len mulled that over for a minute. “He’s younger than you, isn’t he?” There was no condemnation in his voice, just a little resentment. Len was thirteen years older than her and had struggled with his jealousy over her youth. “He’s older than he looks,” she replied dryly as she examined the voids in Len’s new, psychoanalyzed persona. “Look, Len,” she said gently, “it’s great you’re able to talk things through with your therapist. I see a real change in you. There’s a spark that was missing for a long time. You’re working hard to claim your own happiness and, not wanting to sound condescending or anything, I’m proud of you. I know it isn’t easy for you.” He cracked a smile and gave her a brief nod of acknowledgement. “So where’s the but on the end of that sentence?” he said and sadness crept into his smile. Giving him a wry nod, she continued. “But think about what you’re doing now. Being here. We were happy together for a while. You were happy, sort of, as much as you could be at the time, I guess. But being alone is hard. Are you maybe just running back to something familiar?” His mouth thinned, and she recognized the signs of denial in him. To his credit and to her surprise, he didn’t knee-jerk reject her suggestion. “I’m not willing to settle for familiar, Len,” she said quietly, firmly. “I’m happy you’re getting better, stronger, but it’s over.”

****

After he left, she made her way down to the cottage, following the sounds of hammering. David was hoisting a long plank of cedar into place, setting the edge on a chalk line he’d snapped over the exterior sheeting and using a pneumatic nailer to fasten the plank in place. He was working on the shady side of the cottage, and his naked back shifted and rolled with the weight of the wood. “So he left, huh?” David asked without looking up. “Yes.” Mindful of splinters, she sat down carefully on a pile of wood and rubbed Orrin’s belly when he trotted over to her.

“At least he’s human,” David continued, still working, still not looking at her. “Not necessarily him but a guy like him can give you children if you change your mind. Grow old with you. Not just watch you do it.” “But he would.” David turned to look at her, his brow furrowed by her cryptic remark. “Len would just watch. He’s a sidelines kind of guy. Like a baby bird sitting in its nest with its mouth open, waiting for somebody to drop nuggets of whatever into it. He doesn’t have a self-sufficient bone in his body.” She felt the warmth of the sun on her thighs, ran her hands over her bare legs that were sticking out beneath the hem of her shorts. “I’m tired of his neediness. I won’t do that again.” Walking over to her, David held his nailer in front of him, almost like a shield. “I’m just as needy as the next guy. More even.” Charlotte smiled. “There’s a difference between normal physical and psychological needs, and chronic dependence.” Hesitantly, he glanced up at her. “Knowing what I am, what life with me will be like, what I need…” His voice trailed off and he took a breath. “You’re asking if I can love you enough to accept you despite that,” Charlotte said. “The answer is yes. I mean I could leave you, but I’d just spend the rest of my life comparing every other guy I met to you. They’d all come up short.” David grinned and set his nailer down. “That’s a given,” he teased. She returned his smile. “Life around you may have its drawbacks, but it’ll never be boring. I’ve done boring. I’m ready to move past that. Besides, I know you’ll keep me safe, always.” “Will you stay with me?” David asked solemnly. “Yes.” His eyes brightened, and he uncoupled his nailer from the compressor. It clicked and hissed before he switched it off. “It’s hot and I feel like a swim. Join me?” “Um, sure. Okay. Just let me…” Standing, Charlotte turned toward the trailer. “You won’t need your swimsuit, baby.” He reached for the hem of her T-shirt. “Let’s go skinnydipping.” “But it’s still light out.”

“Yeah. Feels naughty, doesn’t it?” He pulled off her shirt, then his, took her hand, and led her around to the front of the cottage. After scanning the waterfront, he tipped his head to the side like he was listening. “All clear. Strip.” Charlotte felt her eyes bug out, and then she giggled, actually giggled, and shimmied out of the rest of her clothes as quick as she could. As soon as they were both naked, David cupped her breast, kissed it, grabbed her hand, and took off toward the lake with her in tow. The damp sand on the narrow strip of beach squelched between her toes. Orin ran alongside them, smiled, then threw himself into the water with uninhibited joy. David pulled her into the coolness of the lake so fast, she squealed, then clapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. He stopped when they were in the lee of the U-shaped dock, turned, and eased her body into his. Surface water lapped at Charlotte’s chest and back as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “We could get arrested,” she said just before she nibbled his earlobe. “Nah. The dock’s high enough to hide us from any boaters. Why’d you think I insisted on a Ushaped dock in the first place?” Chuckling, she swirled her tongue over his ear, loving the way he sighed in response and tightened his hold on her. As always, his body felt cool at first. Almost as cool as the water. It warmed quickly and she snuggled into him until her breasts flattened between them. Her belly cradled his growing erection. Two big trees, a maple and a willow, hung over the shoreline, shading them from the afternoon sun. “This is perfect,” she murmured. “You’re perfect.” David’s eyes were as warm as the powerful body pressed against hers. He dipped his head, brushed his lips over hers. “If this is a sad attempt to get me to sign title of the property back over to you,” Charlotte whispered, “it ain’t going to happen.” “Ouch.” David pulled a face. “Ever notice how your diction slips when you’re turned on?” “Yes. And don’t try changing the subject.” Grinning crookedly, she reached between them and feathered her fingertips over the head of his cock. “And don’t cheat,” David groused, although he didn’t stop her from touching him. “I’m still angry at you for manipulating me into coming here.” “Oh, baby, how can you say that?” he wheedled. The fire in his eyes stopped any ire she might have felt. “Things turned out great. You’re here with me. You love me. I’m not going to charge you for finishing your house.” “Our house.”

“Yeah. Our house,” he repeated with a quiet satisfaction that warmed Charlotte’s heart. “I did manipulate you,” he admitted. His voice got deeper and he spoke slower, earnestly. “It was wrong. That said, I’m glad I did it. That doesn’t make it right. It just makes me—” “Human.” The corner of his mouth curled up. “Yes. Having you in my life reminds me there’s a lot of humanity left in me. I like that.” She floated in his arms for a moment. Looking up at the face she loved, the man who made her crazy sometimes, Charlotte exhaled. “I forgive you. You’ve lost some of my trust though. You’ll have to regain that.” “And I will. Without a doubt. It might take a couple of years, but I’m more than willing to work at it.” “We’ve got the time.” “That we do,” he murmured and sealed his mouth over hers. David’s lips were soft as always, persuasive in ways that made her stomach flutter, her breasts warm. He kissed her gently at first, then harder when his breathing deepened. The tip of his tongue touched hers, teased by pulling back, then returned. He groaned when she sought the heat and taste of his mouth, took it like she owned it, owned him. Without protest, her lover let her take what she wanted. As always, David tasted wonderful. A hint of spice and coffee merged with the scent of his skin, his hair. She wrapped her fingers around his head and pulled him closer. The press and withdrawal of his tongue was a sensual tease. When he tightened his arms around her, her breasts felt flushed, full, and she squirmed lightly, eager to heighten the sensation. “I love you so damn much,” David murmured against her lips. He grinned, nuzzled her cheek, and looked down between them. “Even when you’re not wriggling against me.” Feigning outrage, Charlotte slapped his shoulder. “Not wriggling against me like you love being in my arms,” David amended, grinned with what looked like deliberate audacity, and tried to kiss her again. “You just can’t resist riling me up,” she deadpanned. “Oh yeah,” David breathed, grinned again, and wouldn’t be dissuaded this time when he lowered his mouth to hers. Charlotte sighed when he claimed her lips, angled his head over hers so she couldn’t escape— even if she’d wanted to—and sunk his tongue in slow, like he had all the time in the world. He filled her with his taste; the weight of his tongue molded hers; his breath washed her cheek.

Nearby, Orrin explored the shallows. His legs disturbed the water as he moved. She heard the piercing cry of a jay, the insistent, high-pitched thrum of cicadas. David dipped down, just enough to let him wrap his arms around her waist and lift her a few inches out of the water. One strong arm anchored around her back, another pressed gently against her chest until she leaned back on the surface, lifted her breasts to the air. The air felt warm, except when the breeze picked up. Then it made her shiver, and her nipples drew tight. David tongued one languidly, used his free hand to cup the other. Looking up, Charlotte blinked lazily against the diffused sunlight filtering through the leaves. The water lapped against her sensually. It was cool, far cooler than the air, and she shivered at the erotic contrast. David looked up at her. His eyes flashed with wicked intent before he dipped her torso beneath the surface. He lifted her again so her breasts were clear, then began to lick the water from her skin. Enthralled, Charlotte shivered again and combed her fingers through his soft hair. This man, this vampire loved her. He was real, just like this perfect moment was. This was not the life she’d wanted. It was better. Her fantasies had somehow become reality and she arched into his mouth. “I love when you do that,” she whispered. “I love doing it,” he answered with blatant sincerity, eyed her breasts, then laid his cheek against one. After they fell silent, they hung on to each other. The rhythm of the waves rocked them subtly in steady beats, like Charlotte’s heart. David seemed to be listening to it. He tightened his hold almost imperceptibly, sighed, and when she tipped her head, she saw his eyes drift shut. She couldn’t bring herself to chastise Orrin when he swam over to them, nudged her arm, then whacked both her and David with his thick otter-like tail as he circled them. “Go lie down, buddy,” David said. He seemed reluctant to lift his head from her, but he did it anyway so he could nudge the dog away before his thick, sharp claws could get any closer to Charlotte. “Go on.” Orrin grumbled, gulped down a few mouthfuls of water as he swam, then made his way back to the shallows. He jumped onto the dock. His coat shed water onto the wood with the sound of pouring rain, and the click of his nails stood in for the clap of thunder. When he’d turned the first corner, like he’d plotted the optimum point, Orrin stopped and shook himself dry. Squealing and laughing, Charlotte tried to duck away from the shower. David laughed, too, but it was at her as she curled in his arms. He simply blinked, shook his head back like Orrin, then watched the heavy lab flop down on the farthest end of the dock, clear of the shade, and angle himself so the sun hit his round, fur-covered belly.

“Hedonist,” David groused in the dog’s direction. Returning his attention to Charlotte, he lowered his mouth to hers but paused when she started rubbing the water from her face. “Now. Where were we?” he said once she was finished, adjusted his grip on her, leaned her back onto the surface of the lake, and smoothed his lips over her throat. “Ah yes. It’s coming back to me. I remember these beauties.” His mouth moved over her chest, kissing and nibbling. She felt his chin nestle into the softness of her breast a second before his lips found her nipple. Her sigh of contentment echoed his. Tongue and teeth moved over her, nipping, suckling until she squirmed and held him close. David’s breathing came faster, sounded ragged. Like before, Charlotte gazed up into the warm, dappled light. Her lover’s mouth felt wonderful. The feelings building inside her, even better. It wasn’t just his skill, it was the intensity he brought to their lovemaking. Every time David touched her, she almost felt like crying. Not from fear or sadness, but from the poignancy. His simplest caress communicated his need, his enthrallment. She blinked, smiled, and ran her hands over his shoulders. Every inch of him was solid and warm. Like the cock nuzzling her thigh, he was hard everywhere, and she loved the contrast between their bodies. When he nibbled a path across to her other breast, she shivered in anticipation. His mouth covered her nipple, and he suckled her gently, swirled his tongue around the hard tip, nipped her sensually, then drew on her again. A hand traced her hip, squeezed it, then slipped between her legs. She arched into his touch when the backs of his fingers grazed her nether lips. Slowly, back and forth, he rubbed against her with just enough pressure to make her ache with want. “Sadist.” “Perhaps,” David drawled. He lifted his head, grinned at her, then smoothed his cheeks against her breasts. “Sometimes.” With a wink, he closed his mouth over her neglected breast and traced her nipple with the tip of his tongue. She felt the water take more of her weight as David focused on arousing her. His fingers teased relentlessly, his eyes blazed whenever he looked at her, and his mouth felt heavenly on her cool skin. “Hang on to the ladder.” “Hmm? What?” Paying little attention to what he was saying, Charlotte arched, trying to get closer to David’s fingers. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled. David’s quiet chuckle roused her focus. “Hang on to the ladder,” he repeated as he dropped to his knees. When her pussy was level with his face, he turned his head, kissed her inner thigh, then grazed her skin with his teeth. “And quit pounding your heels into me.” She grinned at the tease in his voice. “Keep that up and I’ll have dents in my ass for a week.”

When she stretched her arms up, David supported her on the surface of the water. He kissed her other thigh when she wrapped her fingers around a rung on the ladder he’d bolted onto the side of the dock. “Hmm. Delicious,” he murmured as he drew the tip of his tongue over her slit. Charlotte gasped, and her knees shot upward. He levered his shoulders beneath her thighs, keeping her pussy just above the water, and straightened his arms so he could reach her breasts. When he squeezed and ran his thumbs over her nipples, his lips nuzzled her folds until they latched onto her clit. Gritting her teeth, Charlotte muffled her cries of excitement. He sucked on her pleasure point with devious intensity, made her rock, then tense up. It felt so good. She felt hot, then cold, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the water, the breeze on her wet skin. Waves lapped her delicately. The sound of them was an erotic backbeat to her pleasure. Her belly tightened with need. The need spread, making her nipples so hard they hurt and her pussy spasm with want. “Quiet, baby,” David said in that deep, sensual voice of his. “There’s a boat coming.” Seconds later, she heard the rhythmic chug of a two-stroke outboard, slowly getting closer. She hid her face in her forearm in an effort to keep quiet when David nudged her clit, then lapped at the mouth of her sheath. Eventually, over the sound of the outboard, she heard the rhythmic thud of Orrin’s tail on the dock. The boat was passing by them now. It wasn’t close, but the far side of the lake would have been better. David’s eyes were laughing as he tongued her in earnest. His strength kept her from squirming away from him. Slowly, the sound of the motor faded as it continued on. She tightened her hold on the ladder, arched into him, and cried out softly when a finger teased her slit. David still held one of her breasts, squeezed it and molded it like he’d never tire of the feel of her. His other hand caressed her ass. Arching again, Charlotte trembled when two fingers sunk into her pussy, rotated slowly, then withdrew, only to slide back in again. His mouth covered her clit, and he lashed her with his tongue. Up. Down. Side to side. Humping his face madly, Charlotte didn’t worry about hurting David. Like the rest of him, his neck was a column of iron. She drove her sex into him with reckless need. He answered the siren call by firming his tongue, moving it faster and driving his fingers into her hard and deep. A groan slipped past her clenched teeth. Again she muffled the sound against her arm. When she dared tilt her head to look at him, David’s gaze pinned her with a predatory, sexual light. His eyes shimmered a hundred shades of blue, reflecting the water, the sky, and everything in between. She came without warning. The tension and yearning were exquisite. Her breasts felt swollen. Her sex pulsed around him. This time, when she cried out, Charlotte lacked the facility to check the sounds she was making. David didn’t shush her. His face shone with pride and lust while his mouth and fingers worked her hard.

With a final gasp, it was over, and Charlotte barely kept her hold on the ladder. She didn’t have to. David pulled her up, cradled her against his chest, and squeezed her into the warmth and strength of his body. His only response when she sighed and wrapped herself around him was a contented grin and the steady rocking of his hips. “Take me inside you, baby. Come all over me. Use me. Pleasure us both.” Turning back the stupor that wanted to overtake her, Charlotte reached between them, stroked his hard cock, ran her fingers over the supple skin cradling his balls. “Sadist,” he growled. His voice was deeper than usual, rough. The sound made her pussy spasm again, even though he wasn’t touching her. She nodded her agreement, smiled, and continued to pet him. He felt so warm in her hand. His skin was so incredibly smooth and slid over his iron shaft with deceptive, titillating ease. Easing his foreskin all the way back, she ran her thumb over the base of the head until the rocking of his hips grew more insistent. “Now, baby. God. Now.” The raw need in his voice made her hips move in time with his. She took his mouth, sank her tongue in by slow increments. Tasting herself, she also tasted his desire, could swear she smelled it in the warmth rising from his skin. David growled and kept growling until the sound was a sub-harmonic pulse in her head. She stroked his cock again, fisted it hard enough he dropped his head back and grinned like a drunkard, then fit the head to her empty, needing core. Tightening her legs around him, slow and steady, she trembled as his girth began to fill her. He snarled and captured her mouth like she’d taken his, only there was nothing sweet about David’s kiss. It was demanding, punishing, and Charlotte reveled in his strength. The sense of being possessed. The feeling of being loved. She loved the way she had to stretch to accommodate him. Loved his size and the feeling of holding all that contained power in her arms. The way he vibrated with it, focused it on her. He was looking at her again. Shards of light danced around the expanded black centers of his eyes. He was so beautiful, so unnaturally, perfectly beautiful that Charlotte could only gape as he watched her, filled her, crushed her breasts, then her loins into him. His lips pulled back from his teeth, exposing his canines as they began to descend. It was terrible and wonderful at the same time. Pleasure fisted her womb, and she felt her sheath throb around him. David grinned with animalistic pleasure, and she trembled in his arms. There was no fear, only an intense spike in her arousal that made her groan and throw her head back. He scored her skin with the smooth enamel of his teeth, not the sharp tips. His breath came in hot puffs that made her shiver. Rubbing her breasts into his chest eased the cruel ache in her nipples. She had a second’s warning, the pressure of two sharp points on the rise of her shoulder where it met her neck before he pierced her.

As clearly as if she could see it, Charlotte felt the tips of his canines slide beneath her skin. The pain was short, sharp, and focused her pleasure. Using the strength in her arms and legs, she began to ride him. Slow, deep thrusts of her hips pulled him inside her, over and over. He sucked gently on her skin. The pull made her need spike, then ramp back as soon as the pressure of his mouth eased. She brought her fist down on his shoulder, rocked her hips into him with a need that was as aggressive as it was desperate, then muffled her cry of pleasure against his damp hair when he drew on her again. Tiny sips. Somewhere in her head she knew he was taking tiny sips, no more than a drop or two at a time. It was more than enough to wind her lust tight, then set it free until it exploded through her, infusing every nerve in her body with light and pleasure and a deep, encompassing, throbbing need. “Again.” That single word rolled inside her head, filling her consciousness like he filled her body. The echo of his voice grew, got deeper, richer, built on itself like the pleasure buffeting her. He drew on her neck again, harder this time, and she clamped her mouth shut to keep from screaming in ecstasy. Charlotte came again. This time so hard it hurt, but like the sting of his bite, the pain enhanced her release, focused it, made her tremble and twitch in his arms. When her release faded, soft warmth infused her. She was weightless in the water. He was her rock—the phallic statue she impaled herself on again and again. Small waves lapped their skin, washed the beach. The breeze made the leaves dance and whisper overhead until the sun speckled them with heat and light. Gently, David withdrew his teeth from her skin, licked the wound, and made her shiver with pleasure. He firmed his grip on her and began to thrust. Charlotte groaned in time with the rhythm of his lovemaking. He was so hard she felt full, like she couldn’t take more of him. Instead of tiring, David moved faster, claimed her with a surety that made her sweat and tingle. Tipping her knees up, crossing her ankles over his back, she opened herself up fully. The ride was breathtaking, and she held on with fierce determination. Every stroke dragged the base of his cock over her clit. His size stretched the mouth of her sheath. The delicious friction pulled at her tissues. Almost mindless with pleasure, Charlotte clung to her lover, listened to the loving words he murmured, the guttural curses. The bawdy phrases that praised her body, their joining in intimate detail. He punched into her hard and fast, then slowed down, held her hips back from his so he could grind slow and sensual. Tease her with the stretch and gentle pulse of his thick cock head just inside her sheath. “David, please,” she moaned. When he grinned savagely, when he returned to the full, punishing thrusts that made her crazy, Charlotte dropped her head back, bared her teeth, and gave herself over to a final orgasm. Crushing. Overwhelming. Pleasure throbbed through her, possessed her, made light explode behind her eyes and every muscle tighten as her body tried to hold onto the ecstasy pinning her in place.

“Yeah. So good. So good.” David’s groan hurt her ears, but she forgot that quickly. He tensed against her, moaned something incoherent, then his hips jerked forward. Hard, erratic thrusts in time with the pulses of seed filling her. He groaned again, gasped, filled her so completely Charlotte shuddered against the pressure. After what felt like a long time, he stopped. From neck and slowly down to his hips, she felt the hard body wedged against hers relax. The tension and unnatural strength in his muscles eased. David dropped his head onto her shoulder, kissed the side of her neck, and rocked in time with the waves sliding past. “So, do you trust me any more now?” She grinned at the audacity in his voice. The blatant tease. “Maybe. A little.” Sighing, Charlotte snuggled into David’s warmth. She let him carry her slowly through the shallows, let the water cool and refresh her. “It’s a start. Like I said, if you stay with me, we’ve got a lot of time for me to convince you I’m worth sticking around for.”

Chapter Nine

Two Years Later

Gravel crunched beneath the tires of David’s big truck as he followed the curve of the drive down to their home. The heater in the cab blew gently on them, and he smiled as he looked over at Charlotte’s face. Dappled sunlight made her skin glow, or maybe it was the flat intensity of the October

sun. When he parked next to the garage and stepped out to take her hand, he marveled at the color of the leaves. Half of them were still green, but the rest were brilliant red, orange, or gold. The breeze made them tremble, and they shone in the unique intensity of a northern Canadian fall afternoon. “Maybe we’ll go out in the boat tomorrow,” he suggested, laid his arm around her shoulders, and walked with her to the cottage. “See the colors from the lake. Weather forecast is good. It shouldn’t be too cold.” “Especially if you don’t drive like a speed demon,” she chastised him, grinned, and wrapped her arm around his waist. When he opened the door, Orrin raced out and rubbed against their legs with fullout intensity. They pet him at the same time. Orrin’s short, shiny coat emphasized the definition of his muscles, the sleek dip of his waist. After bouncing around them excitedly, he led the way back inside. “Tea?” David asked and headed for the kitchen. It overlooked the main living area, and when she lowered herself onto her favorite sofa, he saw her nod. He filled the kettle. Her shoulders were a little slumped and, with a slow movement that revealed how tired she was, she untied the scarf wrapped around her head. Despite knowing what he’d see, his throat tightened when he saw the bald patches on her head. The clumps of once luxurious, shiny brown hair clipped down to stubble. The sallowness of her skin. The death in her eyes. Forcing a smile, he got down the teapot. “Now that this round of treatment is over, maybe we should go somewhere? Take a little trip. Just us and Orrin.” At the sound of his voice, the muscular lab wagged his tail, walked over to Charlotte, and lay down across her toes. “Sure,” she answered, and he heard the forced brightness in her voice. “We’ll see.” He played his part and nodded obligingly. It was a game they’d taken to playing a lot over the past months, making plans for a future that was slipping away from them with every passing day. When the kettle started to sing, he took it off the big propane range, poured a little water into the kettle, swirled it around, then dumped it out. He added loose tea leaves—chamomile for her nausea—and gently poured boiling water over them. While the tea steeped, he played the message flashing on their answering machine. “Hi, Char. It’s Alicia.” Alicia was her agent. “What would you think about submitting what you’ve got finished on your current manuscript?” The woman’s bright voice floated around the airy space. He and Charlotte had covered the floors with oak, stained a warm spice color. Soft, patterned carpets covered it here and there, anchoring groups of furniture. Artwork they’d picked up on various road trips decorated the walls and filled a glass-fronted cabinet. The furniture was lushly upholstered, sturdy yet elegant. Charlotte sunk deeper into the

comfortable sofa, and although he could see her try and hold it back, she groaned softly when she moved. “Along with whatever outline you’ve got. We’ll talk about hiring a ghostwriter to finish it.” Alicia’s voice faltered. The machine played back a quick, sniffling sound, and then she continued. “You mentioned you wanted your royalties for this one to go to cancer research. I’ve talked to your publisher, and it looks like they’re going to donate their profits, too. If they do, you may want to see it finished before…” Alicia’s voice didn’t just falter this time. It broke. “Call me back,” she barked in a cracking highpitched tone. “And for god’s sake stop spending so much time with your head in the toilet. Your ass is too big for that to be a good look for you.” From across the room, Charlotte laughed. A single, choked cackle. Alicia continued. “I know because mine’s just as big.” The message ended. After setting her tea down beside her, David walked over to the big picture window. He leaned against the sill, staring out at nothing. He could practically hear Charlotte’s thoughts. They’d gone over the same conversation dozens of times since she got sick. “If I turn you, you’ll return to perfect health.” “But I’ll live forever.” Vanity, perhaps desperation, would creep into her voice. “Will my hair grow back?” “Yes.” By this point, he’d have taken her hand, touched her shrunken cheek, and seen only the beauty inside her. “But after the first two centuries or so, some of the hair follicles on the rest of your body will cease to function. At least most of mine didn’t last much longer than that. I don’t think they were designed to grow hair that long.” “I’m going to die. The treatments are just buying me time, and the side effects make an early death appealing.” “Then let me turn you. I’m desperate to turn you. We’ve had two years…just two damn years.” Usually, at that point, she’d look away, play with the gold band on her left hand. It was too loose for her now and spun easily. “At least your first wife lived to sixty-six,” she’d say. Feeling the silence stretch between them, David turned to look at Charlotte and gave her the best smile he was capable of. She smiled back, then looked past him, out at the colors, their reflection on the water. “I’ve seen those colors thirty-seven times now. They’ve never stopped being beautiful.” He smiled again and, this time, some of it felt genuine. “I’ve seen them about two hundred fifty times. They get prettier every year.”

“David, I…” But, like always, her voice failed just before she asked him to turn her. “What is it, Charlotte?” he pleaded. “Why are you so hell-bent on leaving me? Because I can’t stand losing you.” He’d never said that before, not out loud, and his beloved wife’s face turned chalky. “What are you so frightened of?” he pressed recklessly. “I…I am,” she groaned, and her hand fluttered weakly over her chest. “I am frightened. Terrified. David, this life, this mortality is what it’s supposed to be like. We live. We die. It’s how we’re made. What if I’m not supposed to live forever? What if I hate living forever, having to feed on other humans? What if you get tired of me and stop loving me?” “What if you stop loving me?” he countered, sat beside her, and took her cold hand in his. “I don’t have those answers. All I know is I’d like the chance to ask you that question again. Maybe in another two hundred or so years. Don’t steal that chance away from me. Besides, can you even imagine all the truly awesome, cool things we’ll see in that time?” Her eyes brightened a little at his enthusiasm, but the brightness faded. “I’m so tired,” she whispered, slid down onto her side, curled up, and gave him a wan smile when he tucked a blanket around her and lit the fireplace. She cried a little. She didn’t make a sound—she no longer had the strength for that. Tears simply slid down her cheeks. After a while, she fell asleep.

****

When Charlotte woke up, the first thing she saw was the silhouette of David’s broad, strong back. He was leaning against the window casing, looking out at the colors, the lake. The sun was still bright and sharp, but the angle of it was severe, like it would set within the hour. On the floor beside her, Orrin stirred and thumped his tail on the floor. David turned, looked at her, and smiled. “Hey,” he whispered. “Hey yourself.” Slowly, she started to sit up, and he was at her side in an instant, helping her. “I had a dream.” “You did?” he asked and rearranged the blanket across her lap. Orrin added his weight and warmth to her feet.

“We were in a spaceship. Orrin had this weird bubble helmet on.” They laughed together. She continued. “Anyway, the flight attendants had these tiny little skirts on and kept bending over to flash you their cleavage or ass. Women and men.” “Nice visual. Thanks,” he snorted. “I picked up my dinner tray and smashed cooked carrots in their faces to make them leave you alone. The carrots slid off like they weren’t there. Like I wasn’t there.” “Your mind is a weird thing, Charlotte.” David shook his head but grinned when he did it. “I felt good,” she murmured. “I felt strong. I remembered what it felt like. I’d forgotten.” He kissed her forehead, then laid his against it. “It’s time, David.” With a jerk, he straightened away from her. Terror filled his eyes. “Do I need to call an ambulance?” Taking a centering breath, she reached out and held his hand. “Do it now. Change me.” Guarded hope replaced terror. “Are…are you sure? Are you really sure?” It was the first time she’d let herself say it out loud. “Yes. Maybe I’m too frightened to die. More frightened than I am of living forever. I only know I can’t stand feeling like this anymore. I never knew I could hurt so bad. There are a lot of things I just don’t know the answers to anymore. The only thing I am sure about is I don’t want to leave you. Maybe, maybe it’s as simple as me wanting to see that,” she pointed to the window, “two hundred more times.” He stroked her cheek. “Tell me you’re sure, Charlotte. I won’t ask again.” Nodding shakily, she leaned her head back and sighed. “Yes.” With a controlled, powerful movement, he leaned over her. His canines pierced her throat until they touched the walls of her carotid, then breached them. She jerked, let out a weak gasp of pain, and he cradled her wasted body. He drank hard, fast, took in the foulness of the radiation tainting her blood without hesitation, and tasted the sweet remnants of her that still lingered. When her pulse weakened and got thready, he got out his pocketknife, cut his wrist, and held the wound to her lips. She drank and didn’t turn away from what he offered. He bit her again, drank her blood as quickly as it flowed, felt her pulse get weaker and weaker. Heard her heart falter, start up, falter again. Finally, her blood stopped flowing entirely.

Orrin whined, panted with anxiety, stood and sniffed his mistress’ leg. He bared his teeth at David. With a subtle wave of his hand, David sent the dog walking over to his bed, where he curled up and fell into a light sleep. He kissed his wife’s slack mouth, licked the wound on her neck clean, carried her to their bed, and lay down beside her.

****

When Charlotte woke up three days later, sunlight was streaming into their bedroom. Her first thought was to give David hell for leaving the blinds open. How many times had she told him the sun would fade the carpet? She sat up and wondered why it felt weird, why she felt disoriented, why she could hear the birds outside singing like the window was wide open. Touching her head, she felt stubbly hair over every inch of it. Rolling over, she saw David’s warm blue eyes looking back at her. He was standing beside the window, and the smile he gave her made her nipples perk, her breasts feel warm, full, and sensual. He held out his hand. “Come look at the colors,” he said. His smile widened when she stood up. She knew the look on her face told him she’d rediscovered what it felt like to be strong and healthy. “I think they’ve hit their peak. I’ve never seen them so beautiful. How about we take a picture? See how next year compares?”

THE END

WWW.GWENCAMPBELL.NET

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Gwen Campbell got her start in the magazine industry, writing everything from news stories to children’s fiction to obituaries. When the company she worked for succumbed to economic turndown, she looked at her bank book and gave herself one year to pursue writing full time. The deal was if she made money, she didn’t have to look for a real job. It’s worked out pretty good so far and she still doesn’t have a real job. A life-long believer in romance, she now writes romantic fiction. Gwen is married and she and her husband contribute the success of their relationship to making a point of saying “I love you” at least once a day, sometimes saying “Yes, dear” just because, and making sure the toilet paper always comes over the top of the roll. She says her best sticky-plot resolutions come to her while dog walking. Gwen loves to chat with her readers. You can reach her through her website: www.GwenCampbell.net

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